


Dynamite & Whiskey

by Jtargaryen18 (snowqueen79), snowqueen79



Series: Dynamite & Whiskey [1]
Category: Defending Jacob, Defending Jacob (TV 2020)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Sex, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23351089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/Jtargaryen18, https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/snowqueen79
Summary: You’re a reporter and struggling with covering the murder trial of Jacob Barber. But you’ve covered his father’s cases for years. Andy Barber was someone you admired. Little did you know he admired you too…
Relationships: Andy Barber/Reader, Andy Barber/You
Series: Dynamite & Whiskey [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752700
Comments: 169
Kudos: 218





	1. Chapter 1

“Come talk to me,” was all he said from the shadows. You didn’t know how long he’d been there watching you.

You should haven’t gone. Jesus, you knew better.

But there you were still hanging out in the parking lot of his legal firm, battling your conscious over covering the explosive case that was literally tearing Andy Barber’s family apart. His son was accused of the murder of Ben Rifkin and from the outside, the evidence looked damning. Apparently, his marriage was in shambles. But that wasn’t surprising given the media circus that had upended their lives.

As he stood in the shadows with his hands shoved in the pockets of his suit coat, he looked deceptively calm. It was the little things that gave away the storm raging inside the man. The shadows beneath those blue eyes whispered of sleepless nights. The tense lines of his face, the hard line of his jaw, hinted at the underlying tension he fought to keep hidden.

“I really need to head out,” you told him. Pulling yourself up from where you’d been leaning on your car. You didn’t make eye contact. Being faced with him wasn’t helping your moral dilemma.

On the one hand, the case was getting countrywide attention and you were expected to cover it for your newspaper. On the other hand, you weren’t new to Andy Barber. You’d covered his legal cases for the last three years and you always admired him for being one of the good ones.

So how could you help destroy what was left of his life? It didn’t feel right.

“Got a story to write?” he asked bitterly.

You raked a hand through your hair, blew out an exhale. “I don’t want to.”

The tense lines of his face eased a little at that. He titled his head towards the door behind him. “Come talk to me.”

It wasn’t a good idea. The reporter in you had you trailing him into the rear door of the building. What if he told you something you could use for your byline?

_Stop._

What if he told you something that helped _you_ decide whether or not you wanted to cover this?

That was the real reason you ended up following him. Into his office, a large, tranquil space in off-white and rich, dark wood. You watched as he walked around the enormous desk and dropped heavily into the chair behind it. He motioned for you to take a seat across from him.

You didn’t miss the crystal liquor decanter half-empty on his desk. The fat glass drained in front of him.

“How are you holding up?” you asked carefully, realizing you cared about the answer. You’d never been married, nor did you have children. But you couldn’t imagine the situation he was in. Accusations of murder against his child, yet to be proven, had literally torn what appeared to be a happy life asunder.

“Like shit,” he muttered his gaze on the desk in front of him. “How are you holding up?”

“What?” The question took you off guard. “I’m… fine. Really.”

“Then why were you out in the parking lot?”

Those blue eyes were on you now, his index finger and thumb shaping an L around one solid line of his jaw as he waited for your answer.

“Honestly?”

Andy nodded, his gaze moving over you.

“I was sent here to cover this story,“ you explained. “To report on the murder accusations against your son, to look for the cracks in the façade.”

You just threw your editor’s words out there. Truth was best.

A wicked mix of emotions stirred in those blue eyes as he studied you.

“And you don’t agree with that?” he asked you calmly.

You huffed at that. “What do you think?” you shot back before you thought about it. “Sorry. It’s just… You know I’ve always covered your cases… Even the Buster Parsons case. I knew you would pull that out. I ended up with a great story too because I waited it out. You’ve always had a knack for… the last-minute save. The big reveal I guess.”

“But this isn’t my case. It’s my son.”

You nodded.

“You’ve always supported me,” he replied. “And I’ve been grateful for it… Did you ever go against what your editor wanted for me before?”

“For Buster Parsons? Kind of,” you said. Your editor had been so sure Parsons was guilty, but Andy had proven his innocence. “Otherwise, no.”

“Now you have different orders,” Andy pointed out.

“I have a choice,” you told him.

“Whether or not you have a job?” he asked, his brows shooting up a little in question.

Andy was right and he knew it.

“My integrity as a journalist is important to me, Andy.” You meant it. “If I don’t have that, maybe I need another job.”

“And it’s all just your journalistic integrity?” Andy asked.

It was an interrogation you realized. You just didn’t know he wanted from you.

“What else would it be?” you had to ask, trying to see where he was going with it.

“What else indeed,” he muttered, rising from his chair. “You sound really sincere but I’m not completely sure I buy it.”

You felt small in the fine leather chair in front of his desk. At his full height, with those broad shoulders, it occurred to you that he was a big guy. You hadn’t realized until now.

His hands slid into the pockets of his suit coat. “If you were just worried about your job, your integrity, why were you here in the parking lot, knowing I’m in here?”

_What?_

“We were supposed to be here in case you showed up,” you admitted, watching him walk around the desk and towards the door. “There were a ton of reporters.”

Where was he going?

“But you stayed,” Andy pointed out, locking the door.

Your heart slammed in your chest as he came back in your direction.

“I was thinking,” you said honestly, “that’s all.”

“About your job?”

His gaze held yours and your heart was flying. He could probably hear it.

“Or about me?” he asked quietly.

Surprise. Fear. Indignance. Lust.

_Guilt._

“Andy, wait…” you tried.

Faster than you could think, he grabbed the arms of the heavy chair you sat in and pulled it around to face him. You shrank back against the expensive leather back while he planted his hands on the arms, looming over you and pinning you in.

“You think I didn’t read your stories?” he asked, his blue eyes darkened as his gaze moved over your hair, down your body. “Your stories made it seem like I was a true defender of the people… A hero.”

Why was that a bad thing? You nodded.

“You think I didn’t see how you looked at me when you showed up outside the courthouse?” he leaned closer and you could feel the heat coming off him. You could smell the expensive bourbon on his breath. He whispered your name. “I noticed the way you were always there, always somewhere close.”

His hand slid up over yours, his touch so warm. The gold of his wedding ring winked at you in the light.

_What the fuck were you doing?_

Yeah, you’d always found him attractive. But you never had any intentions.

“Andy, no,” you kept your tone apologetic. “You’re married. I wouldn’t have…”

His hand was huge as it slid up your arm, over your shoulder. He wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck, pulling you into him for a kiss. His lips were on yours in an instant, the brush of his beard against your cheeks and chin. The kiss was heated, demanding. He tasted like bourbon and deep dark desire.

_You couldn’t._

Somehow you managed to break the kiss, darting under his arm to scramble away. The square heel of your sandal caught in the carpet and sent you sprawling before you could reach the door. His impossibly long legs marched into your field of vision. Strong hands grabbed your upper arms, you thought to help you up.

Instead, he pushed you back until your back hit the wall, knocking the wind from you. Color lit up his face as he wrenched you away from the wall to forcefully shove you into it again.

“You going to play coy now?” he demanded as his hands grabbed at the hem of your sweater. “You going to deny all those little smiles?”

Okay, while you _had_ flirted with him, you had, you never in a million years thought anything would come of it. That’s why you did it. The man was so distraught because of his circumstances, and he’d been drinking though he wasn’t drunk. He was acting out of character. You just needed to get his attention. He’d feel so bad about this later.

When you couldn’t stop him from hauling up your sweater, trying to pull it from you, you slapped him across the face _hard_.

The smirk that earned you…

You tried to get around him, but he caught you by the waist, pushing you back into the wall and this time pinning you there with his entire body. Andy was a violent storm around you. While you were trying to free yourself from where his solid, muscular form held you to the wall, his hands and mouth were ceaseless.

You had to fight to keep him from claiming your mouth. But he had your sweater pulled off in seconds, dropped his suit coat to the floor behind him. You tried slapping at him again when he ripped your strapless bra away.

Andy caught your wrist, grabbling the other when you went to strike with the other hand. Holding them to the wall, his smile was downright triumphant.

Your mind spun, wondering how you came to this. Your breath came fast. Your own needs rose so fast as that dark gaze took in your upper body. _Why the hell are you aroused by this?_ Were you really going to let this happen? This was another woman’s husband.

“You’re pure dynamite, aren’t you baby?” Andy held you to the wall even though you fought him. The curve of his lips when he smiled made your heart clench in your chest, made you want to please him. “I’ll bet loving you changes a man… Blows him apart on the inside.”

“Andy, please…”

He hummed, chaining kisses down the column of your neck. “I like that. Beg me.”

And you were begging though you couldn’t have said exactly why. The heat of his mouth, the scrape of his beard over your lips, your throat. He burned a path down to your chest, teasing your breasts with a wicked tongue and just enough teeth to have your thighs clenching in need.

Andy made you ache, made you desperate.

When he took a knee in front of you, you were so mesmerized by what you hoped he was going to do that it didn’t occur to you to fight him anymore. You didn’t try to run. You watched helplessly as he shoved up your slim skirt. The thigh-high stockings you wore weren’t special and neither were the simple black panties. It didn’t stop him from gripping your hips in his hands, pressing his face into the covered heat of you and breathing you in.

“Goddamn… you smell so fucking good,” he whispered against you. “You’ve wanted this for a long time, haven’t you baby?”

 _Oh, God._ It wasn’t a lie.

Andy ripped those panties off you, shoving them in the pocket of his slacks. Without hesitation, he pulled one of your trembling thighs over his shoulder and pressed his face into the wet heat of you. Shame flooded you as the scent of your own arousal rose, heavy and warm. The feel of his beard on the tender flesh of your inner thighs, on the swollen petals of your sex.

He growled into you, making your feel the vibration in your channel that was clenching and weeping for him already. His arms tightened on you, holding your open. His tongue and fingers took you apart, both gentle and rough at turns. You didn’t know what he’d do next. He just wasn’t stopping as his tongue teased your clit until you couldn’t breathe, his fingers sliding along your inner walls until he found the trigger that had you seeing stars. That had _you_ exploding.

Above him, your hands were frantic in the glossy dark locks of his hair. Your entire being shook and the gasps and cries he pulled from you were a desperate chorus you couldn’t have stopped if you wanted to.

When you were coming back around, Andy pressed his lips to your thigh, smearing the skin with your own juices. Your world spun when he hauled you up on one shoulder and you watched the door move away as he carried you to his desk, dropping you none-too-carefully onto your back on the dark, wooden surface. Grabbing your thighs, he pulled your ass to the edge, placing you exactly where he wanted.

“Look at you,” Andy whispered, his hands smoothing over your face, your breasts as you watched the light shine off the slick of your juices on his beard.

You could just imagine what you looked like, spread out on his desk topless with your skirt shoved you to your waist. The stockings were the only other thing you wore, your sandals having fallen off somewhere.

“Spread out for me,” Andy muttered, dropping down to swirl his tongue around one of your nipples until it was an aching peak. Until you were fighting to breathe. His fingers slid between your legs as he teased you, sliding in and out of you carefully. “God, I’ve wanted this… Wanted you _so_ much.”

All you could do was watch as he undid his belt, opened his slacks. He pushed them along with what appeared to be silk boxers, down his hips just enough. Taking himself in hand, and he was well-endowed, he hovered over you mostly clothed while you lay vulnerable beneath him.

His kiss was greedy when his mouth claimed yours. You could smell yourself on him, taste your own excitement. The wet of his beard smeared over your chin.

When the wide head of him sank into you, it took your breath. Andy deepened his kiss, his cock stretching you open in a way that burned like good whiskey, that hit places inside you that you weren’t even aware of as he pushed deeper into you. When he reached the end of you, the slight edge of pain had you trembling, lost to whatever he wanted.

“Andy, please…”

His eyes slid closed when he slid back and pushed forward. “You fit me so well… so tight around me… God, I’ve needed this…”

His mouth was slack, his breathing as labored as yours. Lowering himself over you, his hands collared your wrists. His strokes at first were easy, slow. The fine fabric of his dress shirt scraped against your sensitive nipples, your legs clamped around him, your slick inner thighs sliding against the cool fabric of his slacks, the heated flesh of his hips and thighs.

The careful movements gave way to greedy thrusts that punched the air from your lungs, to sharp, firm movements had the impossibly large desk shaking. Andy held you to the desk, pounding you into it. His lips blazed trails over your lips, anywhere he could reach.

Andy whispered all manner of filthy things in your ear. How good your pussy felt around him. How many times he’d pictured having you on his desk just like this. How he’d pictured your face when he made love to his wife so many times in the last couple of years.

You’d been on the edge, sensitive from his mouth when he’d slung you across the desk. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out how to angle his thrusts to bring you off. He found that mark and kept aiming for it, bringing you off once, twice while you sang for him. Your cries filled the office. Cries of his name. pleas for – fuck you didn’t know. All you knew were his movements inside you, his solid form caging you on top of his desk.

By the time he released one wrist so he could tease your clit and push you over the edge a final time, you were too weak to fight him. You were shaking in his grasp, his for whatever he wanted. The orgasm hit you hard, had your screaming, squirming beneath him while his mouth stayed at your ear, teasing the lobe with his teeth.

Andy looked wrecked above you. His normally immaculate hair lifted in random spikes over his head. His face was red, his lips deep cherry in color. His weight dropped onto you as he chased his own release, his hips working hard as he powered into you. He came with a roar, right next to your ear. He tightened around you, shaking and working himself into you sharply once, twice more…

Dropping his head onto your chest, he hummed as you smoothed your fingers through his hair. You wondered if there was enough of you left to scrape off his desk. You thought about how cool it was in the office, how good it felt.

Anything but the potential consequences of what you’d just done.

As if he could read your thoughts, Andy lifted his head, propped himself on an elbow.

“I want to see you again,” he whispered, more now like the calm, strong man you’d always secretly admired.

“Your wife,” you pointed out with what little energy you had left.

His gaze didn’t move. “That’s over.”

Your heart pounded in hope. But doubt bled all over it.

“We can’t… it would have to be a secret,” you told him.

Pressing a kiss to your temple, then to your jaw, Andy hummed. “For now. As soon as the divorce is final, I don’t want any secrets. I’m sick of fucking secrets.”

Lifting from you, he tucked himself back into his slacks. You awkwardly climbed off he desk, scrambling for what was left of your clothes.

You’d just picked up the remnants of your bra and slid your sandals on when you felt his hand wrap around your upper arm.

“Take me back to your place.” It wasn’t a request.

What had you gotten yourself into?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is going into a short series, just want to say the plan is to keep this spoiler-free. I have read the book and while I don’t know how closely the show will follow the book, I don’t want to take any chances. Thank you!

“I know you’re sweet on Andy Barber,” your pudgy, balding editor grumbled at you from the other side of his desk. “But his kid’s a fucking murderer. He’s going down and he’s taking his old man with him. Do your fucking job and cover it.”

Your tried not to fidget as you sat in the chair across from him, threadbare and uncomfortable compared to the large, leather chair you’d sat in two nights ago…

_Stop thinking about that. You fucked up._

“We don’t know for sure his son did it,” you argued.

“Have I ever been wrong?” Lawrence shot back at you.

“Buster Parsons?” you reminded him.

Lawrence pushed his glasses up his nose, half reading something on his computer screen. “Fuck Buster Parsons.”

You chuckled at that. You’d never _not_ remind him that he’d been wrong there.

Truthfully, you needed to back off the Barber story. Considering that you’d fucked him in his office, then taken him back to your small house and fucked him there too, you were no longer impartial.

Insane but not impartial.

“Maybe,” you began slowly. “Maybe I shouldn’t continue on this one, Lawrence… Maybe I could take something else.”

“Horseshit,” he growled, turning his attention to you. “You’re my best reporter and this is the biggest story we’ve had in a while… I need you to do your job.”

There was no changing his mind. By the time you made it home, your head was a mess. How could you make this work? How could you cover this story like Lawrence expected you to now?

_His kid’s a fucking murderer…_

You felt so tired as you walked into your house, dropping your coat, purse and briefcase on the couch. Kicking off your heels, you headed straight for your freezer and pulled your vodka bottle out. You needed something to slow your mind. It was going ninety fucking miles an hour.

Maybe Lawrence was right. Maybe you should just do your job, cover the Barber case…

And forget the other night _ever_ happened.

It had just been sex after all. Mind-numbing, earth-shattering, epic sex granted. But you hadn’t gone out on a date with Andy. You hadn’t traded numbers or tried to get to know each other.

He was a man with a shattered family. His wife wasn’t speaking to him and their marriage was over – _he said_ – and his son was on trial for murder. Andy Barber needed to blow off steam that night and you let him in.

_I want to see you again._

Shaking your head, you pulled out your vodka bottle, grabbed a shot glass from the cabinet. The icy liquor slid down your throat. Since you had a light lunch, you knew it would go straight to your head. You wanted it to. You wanted to be numb, to not think about this anymore.

It was _all_ you’d thought about for the last couple of days. _He_ was all you thought about. The way he’d touched you, loved you.

Andy Barber had taken control of you in a way you’d never experienced before. There was a desperation in his eyes, sure, that only hinted of his pain, his fear.

But his touch had been dominating, his desires accepting no refusal.

You took another shot. That one took your breath. A cold swallow. A cold realization.

With everything going on in his life right now, a physical relationship was all he could offer you. He’d left your body aching in the best ways. But the damage he could do to your heart?

You couldn’t risk it.

And with the crush you’d had on the man, you didn’t see a way to have a physical relationship with him and keep your heart out of it.

Once the case was over, his son would either go to jail or be exonerated. But no one would view them the same way after this. Andy would probably have to take his son and start over somewhere else if he were proven innocent. There’d be the divorce.

Andy wouldn’t be in any place to offer you a future, a real relationship.

_His heart._

And you wanted everything. Didn’t you deserve that?

A sharp rapping on your front door had you jumping where you stood. Pressing your hand to your chest from the fright, you took a deep breath as you wondered who was here. You’d just gotten home.

You shouldn’t have been surprised to see Andy Barber standing there on your front step. A cold rain had started, its drops glistening on his hair and dark coat as he stood there taking you in.

You shook your head in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to,” he told you heatedly.

Pushing his way past your door, he had it closed and locked behind him while your mind struggled to catch up.

“Andy, we need to—”

Andy’s mouth claimed yours, cutting off what you were about to say and sending your heart racing in your chest. You could taste the rain and hunger on his lips, his hands determined as pulled you into his arms.

He towered over you without your heels, making you feel lost in his shadow in your own living room. His overcoat was cold and damp but beneath it, you could feel the heat coming off him. The deep amber and leather notes of his scent captured your senses and all you could do was hold onto him.

He was backing you into the hallway, towards your bedroom because he knew exactly where it was. Your breath huffed out when your back met the mattress in the dim light from the street beyond your windows.

“Andy, wait,” you managed breathlessly as he dropped his heavy coat to the floor and toed off his shoes. “Andy—” 

But he was hauling you up your own bed, pushing you into the pillows as he reached to pull the chain of your Tiffany lamp, bathing you in warm, yellow light.

“No, I’m _not_ going to wait,” he insisted, dropping kisses over your face, claiming your lips, as his hands clutched at your blouse, roughly working the delicate buttons at its front. “Not when I’ve had the feel of you, the taste of you, in my head for the last two days.”

You pushed his suit coat back off his shoulders but that was as far as he let you get. Andy collared your wrists once he had your blouse opened, your front clasp bra parted to reveal your breasts.

Your nipples were aching little points and the heat of his mouth surrounding one then the other, had you curling around him. The lashes of his tongue on your skin sent pleasure racing through you. The feel of his hard thigh pressing between your own, teasing your center that was already craving him.

A sharp nip of his teeth had you yelping, and he hummed at the sound.

“That’s it,” he purred. “I want to hear you.”

His lips blazed a path down to the waist of your skirt. He wasted no time finding the zip on it, pulling it down and whisking the garment off you.

Then you cringed. You hadn’t expected company, hadn’t caught up on laundry. There you were in standard pantyhose with nothing underneath. You didn’t know what reaction to expect.

Andy never paused. There was something greedy and base about the way his fingers plucked at the top of your pantyhose and ripped them apart to get at what he really wanted. The cool air of the room made you shiver when it met the wet heat of you. You were so wet you could see it dotting the strands of the landing strip you kept there.

Andy pushed your knees up toward your chest roughly, diving into the center of your excitement with his mouth and you cried out at the ferocity of it. You wouldn’t have expected a man who’d been married a while to have oral skills like that, but he set you on fire. His tongue rasped against your bundle of nerves until you thought you’d jump out of your skin before tracing a line to your opening and working it into you like a cock. Your juices smeared over his cheeks, his beard as he took you apart, leaving you gasping for air above him. He liked it when you grabbed for him, tugging at the cool locks of his hair.

“I want to hear you,” he demanded, a rough finger sliding into your channel. “Want to hear how good… I make you feel.”

You weren’t in any position to deny him when another finger slid into you and his lips closed around your clit, working it with a gentle determination that had you on the edge. You moaned, you mindlessly begged.

“Please,” you whispered roughly. “Please, I need to… I…”

A third finger slid into you, the fullness had you craving his cock in the worst way. His tongue was a wicked torment in your folds and his deep moans vibrated against your core indecently, sending you off on an orgasm that had you clawing the sheets, struggling in his grasp.

But it was nothing for him to hold you in place. It wasn’t hard for him to keep the pressure on your g-spot with those wicked fingers while his tongue kept you dazed, wrecked in his clutches. He brought you off again hard, leaving you gasping on the bed and trying to recover.

Andy rose above you, roughly pulling his tie loose and off, swiftly unbuttoning the expensive dress shirt he wore. Again, he opened his belt, his slacks, just enough to free himself. Andy had a beautiful cock, swollen and red. All you could do was watch as he stroked it with a determined hand and insinuated himself between your trembling thighs.

“No,” he muttered.

You didn’t have time to wonder what that meant. Andy rolled you onto your stomach and you felt his thighs push yours wide, felt the head of him at your entrance as he pinned you to the bed with some of his weight. As wet as he’d gotten you, it wasn’t anything for him slide inside, grinding into you once he bottomed out. The fullness of him had your walls stretching around him and it burned.

Hauling you up on all fours, you were able to haul yourself up on your elbows anyway, you felt Andy draping over you as he began to work himself within you. One elbow planted next to you on the bed, the other hand wrapped firmly around your throat. He wasn’t using it to pull you back onto his cock, but he applied enough pressure to make you feel lightheaded, to make you feel like he _could_ limit your air.

Andy fucked you relentlessly with sharp fast thrusts of his hips while his hand at your throat held you in place for him. His lips branded your neck, your shoulders with hot wet presses. Careful teeth nipped at your ear before his tongue soothed the slight sting. The scratch of his beard made you shiver as you felt the wave of pleasure rising, felt Andy all around you.

Changing angles, Andy thrust harder, one movement hitting your g-spot and taking your breath.

“Yeah?” he whispered in your ear.

Lifting from you, his hands gripped your hips tightly. You held on tightly as he pulled you back onto his cock, working himself into you firm and fast. A chorus of your cries filled the room, blending with the sound of slapping flesh. Only a few thrusts against your inner trigger had you coming apart, dropping your head into the pillows as you cried out and your vision faded.

He wasn’t far behind you, shouting as his thrusts lost rhythm and he came.

You were still fighting to breathe as he rolled to your side. You heard the sound of his zipper, felt the bed shift as he dressed. The last time, he’d let you drift off to sleep and he’d been gone. You expected no less tonight.

The thought had you feeling close to tears…

Andy surprised you when you felt his hand smooth up over your ass, up your back.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and soft.

“Yeah,” you managed. _I’m an idiot who can’t so no to you, but fine._

“You just got home,” he went on. _Had he followed you?_ “Have you eaten today?”

That had you lifting your head, turning to face him. You had a salad for lunch. That was it.

“Not a lot,” you replied.

“I’ll order some takeout for dinner,” he told you, his hand felt nice gliding over your back. “Anything you have a taste for?”

_Dinner, huh?_ It sounded nice.

“I’m not a picky eater,” you told him, smiling. “I’d be happy with anything.”

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your temple. Then he was up, fishing his coat out of the floor and pulling his phone and wallet from its pocket. He was heading in the direction of your kitchen and you were just now able to pick yourself up.

You cleaned up, pulling on a pair of blue silk pajamas you saved for special occasions but never wore. You padded up the hall in bare feet, finding him sitting at your kitchen table and scrolling through his phone.

“You have anything besides vodka?” he smiled up at you.

Andy looked so tired. His shirt was only buttoned halfway up, not tucked in.

You nodded. “I’ve got some Jim Beam. A half bottle of Jack.”

“Jack would be nice,” he said. “No ice.”

You got the drink for him, brought it to the table. He surprised you by hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap. Placing the phone down, he took a healthy swig of the drink before winding his arms around you.

“I know this is a shit time to bring this up,” he muttered, “but we’re covered on birth control here, right?”

You blew out an exhale. “Yeah. I have an IUD.”

“I knew you were a smart girl,” he said, pressing a kiss into your neck.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you huffed, pulling free of his grip and moving to the seat at his right.

You expected embarrassment, chagrin. When he whispered your name, you glanced up.

“You’d be surprised at what I know about you.” Andy folded his hands on the table in front of him, his gaze steady. “I’ve given you a long look over the last couple of years.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. _What was this?_

“When you first moved Newton, you caught my eye,” Andy explained, taking another drink. “Your skirts were shorter then. You wore more makeup, but you don’t need it. You always showed up early, had the perfect spot for your approach picked out… You were always in the middle of the action. It showed ambition, an eagerness to impress.”

Surprised, you felt your heart speed up in your chest.

“Then you started seeing Billy Wesley by the holidays that year,” Andy went on, smirking. “That wasn’t fun to watch.”

“Billy isn’t a bad person,” you threw in, not sure why you felt the need to defend him. Billy had done nothing wrong. You just didn’t have a lot in common.

“He wasn’t enough for you,” Andy elaborated. “You looked so out of place at the baseball games with him.”

“You were there?” You didn’t remember seeing _him_.

Andy nodded. “Took Jacob to so many of those games. From the time he was little.”

It wasn’t that you hadn’t enjoyed the games. Billy just never really watched them with you. His friends were there. He spent his time laughing with them, inside jokes, and tossing back beers until you had to drive him home in his own truck. And you weren’t good at driving the half-ton monstrosity he drove.

“Last year you dated… _What_ was his name? Bart?” Andy’s gaze never left you.

“Art,” you corrected. “Art Jennings.”

Art had been a nice enough guy. Nice-looking, worked for an architectural firm. You had hoped that one would work out.

“That didn’t last long,” Andy said. “What happened with Art?”

Your heart flew at his words. At his observations. How could he have paid so much attention to you without you noticing? A happiness bloomed in your heart when it shouldn’t. You shouldn’t be happy Andy had watched you, kept track of you. Right?

You shook your head, taking the glass out of his hand and finished the whiskey in it. You let it burn a path down your throat before you answered.

“Why do I feel like I’m on the witness stand, counselor?” You tried to lighten things up.

“You can answer the question,” Andy said playfully, “or I can tell you what _I_ think happened.”

Not sure you wanted to know what he thought, you nodded. “Go ahead.”

“He’s ambitious like you,” Andy began. “Art was looking to move up in his architectural firm.”

He didn’t know how accurate that statement was. So many times Art had put you off for a last minute meeting or to work extra hours. You’d been convinced he was cheating on you but there’d never been any evidence of that.

“You’re beautiful,” Andy pointed out. “So you were a perfect trophy girlfriend to spin around the mixers and parties.”

You’ve only went to a few of those with him. There you _had_ felt out of place.

“Too bad that Mark Collins hates reporters,” Andy added.

“How do you know that?” you wondered.

“We play golf sometimes.”

_Really?_ Mark Collins was one of the senior partners at Art’s firm. He never did seem to like you. At least now you knew why.

“Well, Art told me things weren’t working out,” you said finally. “Guess now I know why.”

“It wasn’t just that, was it?” Andy reach over to trail a finger over the back of your hand. He drew a slow circle, a whisper of a touch. “Bad in bed?”

You sputtered that. 

Andy _wasn’t_ wrong. But damn…

“Am I right?” he wanted to know.

You huffed out an exhale. “I don’t think I’m going to answer that.”

“I think, without words, you just did answer it,” Andy said in a teasing tone.

“That’s really not your business,” you said carefully.

“I’m _making_ it my business,” he said with way more intensity that you expected. “No one has really taken care of you since you came here… have they?”

How did you even answer that?

“Andy?” Your voice sounded small, even to your own ears. “Why are you saying all this? Why were you… even paying attention?”

His finger traced the same track over your hand, his gaze fixed on yours.

“It wasn’t just me paying attention,” he told you meaningfully. “Was it?”

“Andy—”

“Your eyes,” he cut you off. “The way you looked at me with such…admiration, such longing.”

Oh, you had. You shouldn’t have but there it was.

“Your words,” Andy went on. “I’ve kept a copy of every article you’ve ever written about me. Did you know that?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have,” you tried.

“Why?”

“You had a wife? A kid?” You drew your hand back, dropped it into your lap. “That should have kept you from worrying about someone like me.”

Andy frowned at your movement.

“It didn’t stop _you_ ,” he pointed out. “You thought that you could look at me like that? Write what you did about me? And I _wouldn’t_ notice? I think you wanted my attention.”

“Maybe I did it knowing I wouldn’t get your attention,” you admitted.

“Liar… I think you knew exactly what you were doing,” his voice sounded deeper. “You made me dream about you… You had me imagining so many times what it would be like to be with you.”

Andy slid to the floor, kneeling next to your chair and turning you in it to face him.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want _something_ with him. But you didn’t know what to believe.

“Now you’ve given me a taste of you.” Andy’s hand slid over your knee while your heart thundered in your chest. “You really going to tell me no now?”

Your hands lifted but dropped again. Your emotions were all over the place.

“Touch me,” he challenged you.

Slowly, you slid your hands up his arms to his shoulders.

“Andy, this should be the _last_ thing on your mind right now.” _Shouldn’t it?_ “You’re telling me your marriage is ending. Your son…”

His blue eyes were suspiciously shiny.

“My marriage _is_ over,” Andy told you. “I’m not lying to you about that… I wouldn’t say that just to… Jacob? Jacob is innocent… And I’m going to find a way to prove it. You said it yourself, I always find a way.”

He did.

“You?” The intensity in his blue eyes nearly took your breath away. “Right now, I _need_ you. I saw my shot and I took it… You can’t wait for the right time. It doesn’t exist.”

A knock at the door broke the spell, announced the takeout order he’d apparently placed online had arrived. Rising from the floor and pulling cash from his wallet, he greeted the deliveryman and paid, coming back to the kitchen with what appeared to be Moroccan food from a restaurant you visited often.

_Coincidence?_

Placing the bag on the table, Andy’s attention was right back on you. You rose from the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“What do you want?” you asked quietly. Hell, you didn’t know what _you_ wanted.

Andy stopped in front of you, taking your face in his hands and gazing into your eyes.

“Give me a chance,” was all he said.

You didn’t know what to say and your heart was beating so loud you knew he could probably hear it. There was so much more to it. His life. His son. His career.

Your career.

When you didn’t answer, he pulled you into his arms. His heart was pounding in a rhythm that almost matched yours.


	3. Chapter 3

“Close the door,” your editor bid you.

You did as he asked, not missing the way Lawrence studied you. He’d only done that a couple of other times before. Both times, you’d been in trouble. When he motioned for you to have a seat across the desk from him, you took a deep breath.

After a couple of minutes, Lawrence locked his gaze with yours.

“I’m just going to come right out and say it.” Lawrence blew out an exhale. “You’re fucking him.”

_Shit._

Lawrence read the answer in your face and shook his head. “Maria in accounting saw him leaving your house this morning when she went out to get her paper. Said he walked to the end of the street and it took him ten minutes to defrost the Audi.” 

“Lawrence, I’m _so_ sorry.”

You were. Shame and anger washed through you.

Maria, who lived on your street, went out to get her paper at _5:30 in the morning?_ No. It usually arrived at 6:45. You could set your watch by it. You knew that because it was the paper you worked for.

“I guess I know now why you were jerking me around on covering his son’s case.” Pushing his glasses up his nose, he stared you down. “Jesus… Did you have to do this _now_ of all damn times?”

“What do you mean?” You were all too afraid you knew what he meant.

“Look, I’m not surprised really,” Lawrence told you. “I always kind of thought you had the hots for him. And it really shouldn’t be anyone’s business who you go around with. I’m not judging you. But…”

_But._

“Word gets out.” Lawrence didn’t have to tell you that. “You got your wish because now you can’t cover the case.”

Okay, that was good but that wasn’t the end of it. You could tell.

“But I’m going to have to furlough you for the time being,” Lawrence said carefully. “And I’m sorry about that. It’s just this case is huge, it’s drawing a lot of attention. My star reporter fucking the suspect’s father? It’s a conflict of interest.”

_Fuck._

“I could end it,” you tried weakly but the pity you read in your editor’s face threatened to break you.

“Wouldn’t make a difference now,” he replied. Dropping his gaze to a print out on his desk, he sighed. “So it looks like you have almost three months of leave built up. That will help.”

_Help?_

“Surely this will blow over way before three months,” you argued.

More pity. “The trial date isn’t for another month. And you know better. You of all people know how these things go… We can evaluate in three months time and see where we are but…”

You were screwed. Completely screwed. Blinking back tears, you clumsily rose from the chair.

“I understand,” you said finally. “I’ve gotta go.”

Lawrence rose behind the desk, his expression filled with concern.

“I’m really sorry about this,” he told you. “Take care of yourself.”

You nodded, afraid to say anything else right now.

You ran out of the building, out to your car. Looking around in your driver’s seat, no one seemed to notice you. Swiping at your tears with the back of your hand, you backed out of the parking space and headed for the grocery store before making your way home.

Your mind raced as you wandered almost aimless down the aisles in the store, grabbing a few necessities for now. Maybe it was your imagination getting the better of you, but you felt like you could see judgment in the faces of others you passed. You imagined you could feel hostility coming from them.

_You’d fucking known better._

It was your own damn fault you’d come to this. You’d allowed yourself to be seduced by a man you had been attracted to for years. Andy Barber was Newton’s assistant district attorney. He was married. His son was on trial for murder.

Your poor judgment may just have ended your career today.

You had a handful of items in the basket swinging from your arm. You picked the shortest checkout lane, waiting behind a woman who didn’t have a ton of things. She was well-dressed and looked oddly familiar to you with her deep red hair and dark, carefully-lined eyes.

You didn’t care for the way she smirked at you. Looking you over in a mocking way. But she didn’t say anything, went back to waiting for the young man at the register to ring her up and bag her groceries.

It wasn’t until she was pushing her cart away and you stepped up to greet the cashier that she turned back around with a haughty look in her eye.

“Whore,” she said loudly. “Why don’t you find an available man instead of taking another woman’s husband?”

Well, if the judgment and hostility you’d felt before from your fellow shoppers were in your head before? It was real now. The cashier’s expression was sympathetic as you avoided making eye contact with anyone else. You paid, snatched up your bag, and ran out of the store.

You hadn’t even started your engine when your phone began humming in your purse. You were almost afraid to look at the screen.

It was Andy. He’d insisted on getting your number last night.

Your heart broke a little in your chest. You were very much attracted to Andy. And apparently, he was into you too. Maybe a little too much judging from what he’d told you last night.

But it was wrong. You knew that. And you were already paying the price. Hell, you’d only spent two nights with him.

You didn’t answer. You started your engine and were about to pull out of the parking lot when he called again.

“Fuck!” you wailed in the quiet of your car.

_Might as well get this over with._

“Hey,” you said quietly, hoping to mask the fact that you were so close to hysterics right now.

“Hey,” replied, his deep voice in your ear. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” you said in an overly bright voice. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I watched you run out of your building in tears,” he said directly.

“What?” Panic had your chest tightening.

“The firm is practically across the street,” he pointed out.

You weren’t going to focus on that now. _No, not right now._ Your world was falling apart. And for what? A man who might be saying anything and everything to have a side fling because _his_ world was falling apart right now.

You didn’t feel like you could breathe right now.

Andy whispered your name. “Talk to me.”

It was a struggle to keep from breaking down, but you had to get it out.

“Andy… I can’t do this,” you said in a shaking voice. “I can’t…”

“What can’t you do?” The calm of his tone was fading.

“This. Me and you. _Us._ ” You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I’m sorry.”

“Where are you?” he demanded.

“No,” you told him. “Andy, I don’t want to talk about it… I don’t want to _see you_ …”

Your voice broke on the last part. Your heart was slamming in your chest and you were willing him to understand. It was for the best. For both of you. Couldn’t he see that?

“Yes, you do,” he said, the sudden ferocity in his voice sent a sliver of fear racing through you. “I’ll find you.”

It took you a couple of minutes to get enough of a grip on yourself to speak, knowing he was listening to you cry.

“Andy… don’t come find me,” you told him with as much determination as you could muster. It wasn’t much. “I just… I have to go…”

You heard him call your name before you ended the call, tossing your phone into the seat next to you. There were only a couple of beats before it began humming again.

Could things be worse right now?

You were headed home because you were “furloughed” and had nowhere else to go. Andy would show up. You knew that.

Then what?

Your head was so messed up you really didn’t recall the drive home. You got your bags from the car and darted into your small house, shutting and locking the door behind you.

You found your way back to your bedroom and threw yourself down on the bed for a good cry. You only ever really cried like this when you were _that_ pissed off. And you were. Mostly at yourself.

You knew you shouldn’t have given in. You knew it was wrong.

_You did it anyway._

It didn’t help that your bed smelled like him. The rich leather and sandalwood tones he wore infiltrated your senses. The scent that was uniquely him stained your sheets, making you grip on them that much harder as you cried it out.

You didn’t wallow in self-pity long. Pulling yourself up, you stripped out of your work clothes and washed the streaks of makeup from your face. You pulled on jeans, your old college sweatshirt, and put your hair up.

Andy could come to the door. He was partly responsible for the mess your life had become after all. Didn’t mean you had to answer it. A plan formed in your mind. It was mean. But under the circumstances, you were ready for him if he didn’t give up. And you didn’t imagine he would give up easily.

Andy apparently had a hard time taking no for an answer. At least where _you_ were concerned.

Well, he was going to have to learn.

You started by stripping the bed. You grabbed everything, carrying it down to the basement to wash. You had another set of bedding, so you made your bed up fresh for yourself. It was a symbolic act but one that made you feel like you had a modicum of control.

You weren’t proud of it but the entire time you waited with a sense of dread. Your heart felt heavy in your chest. Regular sounds around your home had you jumping like a scared cat. You knew Andy would show up. Your nerves were shot wondering _when_.

Making yourself soup and sandwich for lunch, you combed through online job listings as you ate. Sure, if you laid low as Lawrence advised, maybe you could keep your job here in Newton. Once Jacob Barber’s case was over. _Maybe._

Maybe a change of scenery would be nice. You weren’t ready to go back home to Camden just yet. But you weren’t _unwilling_ to move, get a fresh start. You could see yourself in Boston, Providence.

After a couple of hours, you headed back to your bedroom to try and relax. You pulled up a TV series you’d always wanted to watch on your laptop, put in your earbuds, and turned the volume up high. Maybe Andy would come by and you wouldn’t hear him. Maybe he’d go on and you’d be watching your show, unaware and stress-free.

Oh, if only it went that way.

You _did_ hear him pounding on your kitchen door, long and loud just as you finished the show’s first episode. Your kitchen door was at the back of your house, hidden from the street. Loud as he was, your neighbors still had to hear him.

_Yeah? That cat’s out of the bag._

Your heart began to slam in your chest. Your anxiety level was through the roof.

_Ignore him. Maybe he’ll go away._

You weren’t that lucky.

After a good ten minutes, the pounding and yelling _did_ stop. You cowered in your bed with the blinds pulled, not making a sound. Just because your car was here didn’t mean you were. Maybe he’d just take off.

It wasn’t five minutes before your phone started blowing up. You didn’t answer his calls. Next were the texts.

AB: Come on. Let me in. We need to talk.

_No, we don’t._ You didn’t answer.

AB: I know you’re here. Open the door.

AB: Please?

Andy was careful, methodical. You knew from following his cases how he operated. He wouldn’t put anything he didn’t have to in writing. He couldn’t afford to right now.

He tried calling again once. Twice. Then your phone went silent. No more calls. No more texts.

You really wanted to go peek out of your windows to see if he was still out there or if he was gone. _Yeah, no._ You’d seen enough horror movies to know better than that. Everything was quiet now. Just maybe he gave up. At the very least, maybe he decided you weren’t there.

Maybe he didn’t want to add beating the hell out of a reporter’s door to the hell his everyday life had recently become.

But you had to go to the bathroom eventually and with your heart flying in your chest, you made your way into the kitchen. You weren’t going to turn the lights on. Hell, you had just the lamp in your bedroom on right now. You wanted some Jack and something to chase it with. You needed something to calm you down.

Andy was on before you could open the cabinet door, one hand clamping over your mouth and one arm wrapping around you like an iron band. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

You screamed behind his hand, thrashing in his grip and trying to free yourself. His hands were cold and somehow he managed to hang onto you.

“Stop,” he whispered roughly into your ear.

When you started trying to kick at him, trying to bite his hand, Andy scooped you up like a predator and ran through the hallway to your bedroom. His heavy tread matched the terrified beats of your heart when he dropped you onto your bed and followed you down.

You weren’t going down without a fight.

“You broke into my _house_?” you shouted at him. “You selfish son of a bitch!” You were punctuating your words with your fists, pounding at his chest, trying to hit him in the face. “Haven’t you done enough to fuck up my life?”

“Stop! I’m not trying to hurt you,” he growled, hovering over you in the shadows of your room and managing to deflect most of your blows. “Let’s talk about it.”

“You need to leave!” You managed to get a hit in here and there, but it was all you could do to keep him from grabbing your wrists. His weight was already holding your lower body to the bed, rendering you unable to try and kick him.

“No, you’re going to talk to me,” Andy told you roughly, managing to collar one of your wrists and forcing it down on the bed. “Stop!”

You tried to bite the hand that held yours, but he was so damn fast.

“No, you don’t,” he hissed, his other hand grabbing your throat. He squeezed just a little, just a warning.

You froze.

Both of you were panting and your heart was racing painfully as you stared up at him. What did he mean to do? If he was desperate enough to break into your house…

That desperation colored his expression, his blue eyes wild on you. He didn’t let go of your throat.

“Andy?” you whispered, all the fight going out of you. “Don’t hurt me.”

That made him pause but it didn’t drain any of the anger from his face.

“You work so hard… at trying to get away from me,” he managed in between ragged breaths.

“I don’t want to be with you,” you whispered, afraid but needing to say it.

Andy knew you were lying. It was what he did for a living. You had no hope of deceiving him. You never did.

“What happened?” he demanded, his thumb a gentle stroke at your jaw even though his fingers were still wrapped around your neck. “Tell me.”

“A woman…” you got out. “A woman who lives down the street saw you… My boss knew when I got there this morning.”

Color seeped up out of his collar. “He fire you?”

You shook your head, hating the tears stinging the backs of your eyes. “I’m laid off for right now… He said that my fucking you… was a conflict of interest.”

Andy leaned in closer, the hand at your throat trembled slightly. “He used those words?”

You nodded. “And then a woman in the grocery store…”

“She had red hair? A pinched face with too much makeup?” Andy asked tightly.

You nodded again. So he knew her?

“Fuck,” he muttered, releasing you and sitting back. He scrubbed a hand over his face, sinking into his thoughts.

You lay there trembling for a moment. Free of his hold, your first instinct was to see if you could make it to your car. You sprang into motion.

Andy caught you around the waist and slung you back onto the bed none too gently. His glare at you was indignant.

“Why are you doing this?” he demanded angrily. “Why are you running away from me?”

“I’m afraid.” Wasn’t it obvious?

“You’re not afraid of _me_ ,” he said like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “You’re afraid of the changes in your life… Believe me. I understand.”

You tried to lurch up, but he caught you, catching your hands and holding you down again.

“You don’t understand _anything_ about me,” you told him in a shaky voice. “You think you do but you don’t…”

Andy’s smile was heated, didn’t reach his eyes. “I told you. I’ve been watching you for a while now. I’ve _wanted_ you for a while now… You’re all that’s left for me to hold onto right now.”

Your traitorous heart beat just a little faster at that confession.

“Right now,” you echoed, tears filling your eyes now. “Andy, you’ve already turned my life upside down.”

Andy leaned in closer. “Wasn’t my intention.”

“I’m supposed to do what exactly when this is over?” you wanted to know. “Pick up the pieces and go running to another town… Pray that stories about me don’t surface there to destroy what’s left of my career.”

His lips dove for yours, but you turned your head. You felt the warm press on your jaw before he moved up close to your ear.

“This isn’t going to be over,” he whispered in your ear. “We’re going to get through my son’s trial and once he’s proven innocent? You and I can start over… Maybe here. Maybe somewhere else. As long as I’m close enough to my son to see him, I really don’t give a shit… But I want to be with _you_.”

His lips blazed a trail over your neck, soft wet presses that were apologies for his hand’s sin. He chained kisses back up to your chin, chasing your mouth until he could claim it in a kiss that took your breath away.

“What if… what if I _don’t_ want to be with you, Andy?” you whispered, blinking back tears even as your body was responding to the way he ground the hard ridge of his erection into your tummy.

“You do want to be with me,” he whispered against your lips. “You wouldn’t have let me in otherwise.” ****

More kisses, he drugged you with them. The soft brush of his beard against your cheeks and chin was subtle. The way his tongue danced with yours meant to conquer you.

“I let you into my home,” you countered when he let you up for air. “I let you into my body… But I never… let you into my _heart_.”

Andy Barber was a formidable force but even he couldn’t force his way in there.

_Maybe he doesn’t have to._

Shaking your head at that traitor’s thought, you struggled in his hold. More tears came on. Worries about the future battled the ache in your heart.

Andy wasn’t having it. He kissed you until your toes curled, his hands stripping off your sweatshirt. You hadn’t been wearing a bra and when he got his hands and mouth on your breasts, lust conquered your head. Your thighs clamped around his slim hips as he ground into you. You shoved his jacket off his shoulders, hands frantic to find the hem of his black sweater so you could pull it off him.

He had your jeans open and a hand in your panties when you surged up, stopping his efforts as he looked to you in confusion.

You shook your head. “I want to be on top.”

If your life was fucked for the moment, you wanted to demand _something_.

Andy rolled onto his back, not taking his eyes off you and you’d give him that. He looked like he half expected you to flee again.

No, you worked off your jeans while he did the same. Both of you stripping off like horny teenagers in the quiet of your bedroom. When he was bare beneath you – and _damn_ you hadn’t seen the whole show yet to this point – your gaze greedily drank in the muscular body you hadn’t expected. You didn’t waste time in taking him in hand, straddling him.

You sank onto his cock, pushing everything else out of your mind. You didn’t want to feel anything but this. _Him_. He stretched you and it was so good. The burn was good. When you took him as far as you could go, your gaze met his as you planted your hands on the muscled wall of his chest and started to move.

It broke you a little the way he gazed at you. Like you were something _precious_. Like you were all he ever wanted.

No, you just needed a good fuck. For all that you’d been through because of him, he owed you that much. You were soaked around him, sliding up and down, grinding down on him. You used his body In every way that made you feel good.

Andy panted, his hands on your hips. “That’s it,” he urged you on. “Ride me. Take what you want from me.”

_You did._ You worked him, fucked him. You swirled your hips until you worked him against your g-spot. It took your breath away.

Andy’s smile was triumphant as he held your hips still, nailing that spot inside you over and over. You were wet, throbbing. You slid a hand down to your clit, your fingers working it feverishly as Andy ruthlessly went at you.

You screamed as the orgasm ripped through you, wave after wave of euphoria shook you, and Andy didn’t let up. He kept at you until your elbows gave out until you were struggling to stay upright over him.

Everything spun when he rolled you under him. You were just coming back around when you noticed him smiling down at you.

“Okay, little Dynamite,” he whispered. “ _My_ turn.”

Andy dropped a lot of his weight on you, his arms wrapping around you. His strokes were easy at first, sliding easily on the wetness from your release. But his thrusts gained strength, momentum.

All you could do was hang on, arms and legs wrapped around his bigger form as he fucked you. Andy stole kisses from your lips, dropped kisses around your neck as he worked you hard. You weren’t even sure where you ended and where he began.

You came on his cock with a piercing cry, pussy clamping around him hard as your nails carved into his back.

“Can’t hold on much longer,” he whispered hotly in your ear. “You’re so fucking tight around me…”

After the second time, you came on his cock, he was still hanging on. His fingers slid down to tease your clit but you fought him. It was too much. _Too sensitive._ His thrusts came harder, his fingers were a devilish tease. This time when you came screaming, his hand clamped over your mouth again. Your own intimate scent stained that hand, pushing your desire that much higher.

Andy growled above you when he reached his own end, grinding into you again and again until he was spent. You felt him drop to the bed next to you, his breathing harsh in your hair as he possessively reached for you, pulling you into his arms and hanging on.

As you both struggled to breathe in the dark, your heart began to slow. You were exhausted. His deep voice reached you on the fringes of sleep. His words seemed from a dream you couldn’t place.

“I’m sorry about your job,” he whispered, sealing the apology with his lips in your hair.

“I know,” you whispered. You knew he didn’t mean for that to happen.

“I’ll take care of you,” he said into the darkness. “Don’t be afraid.”

You _were_ afraid.

It was just hard to remember why when you were tucked under his chin, safe in his arms.


	4. Chapter 4

You jumped when your phone hummed next to you on the couch. You were so riveted by coverage of the first day of Jacob Barber’s trial you just let it ring. You’d been so lost in thoughts that you should be there right now, covering that story. Doing your job.

As you watched, Andy Barber ushered his wife and son up the sidewalk, up the stairs of the courthouse. Their faces were set in stone, you’d expected that.

Andy looked so tired. So _defeated_.

You wanted to hate him for your current situation. You really did. You were stuck at home, laid off. And because of a couple of snide remarks made to you when you’d gone into town, you just didn’t go out a lot. You shopped late at night for what you needed and that seemed to take care of it. You weren’t a morning person anyway.

_That woman’s son is on trial and you’re fucking her husband?_

_What’s it like fucking a murderer?_

When you’d argued Andy hadn’t done anything…

_No? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?_

If you thought _you_ had it bad, you couldn’t imagine their life right now. You’d read the article where the reporter caught Laurie at a diner, got her talking. They’d painted Andy as a friendless, loner and that certainly didn’t help anything. Another friend at the paper told you about an incident between Laurie Barber and Ben Rifkin’s mother in the grocery store one morning.

There’d been the rumor about Andy’s father and after doing a little research, you discovered that one was true. Your heart broke for him because as much research on him as you’d done, you’d never encountered _that_. Apparently, he hadn’t wanted that bit of family history known. You understood.

In the last few weeks, you’d seen Andy only a handful of times. He never texted or called and you understood why. He always came late at night. Since he wasn’t above breaking into your house, you’d just handed him your spare key. You tried hard not to think about the pure gratitude on his face when you’d done that, the way his gorgeous blue eyes had been edged in tears.

Every time he loved you, there was a desperation, a reverence in the act. Each time felt like it would be the last time you’d be with him and each time, you assumed it would be. After all, what could the future hold for the two of you?

If Jacob were truly innocent, how would that change things for Andy and his family? Would everything heal? Could they go back to being a happy family? You knew that was probably for the best.

Had you just been a temporary convenience when Andy’s world had fallen apart?

If Jacob were found guilty? Andy would be destroyed. What he had or didn’t have with you wouldn’t matter. Not in the face of that.

Andy Barber had been the worst mistake you’d ever made. 

And deep in the night when you were alone, often crying yourself to sleep about the limbo your career was in and worse, the mess he’d made of your heart, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret anything.

No, you were dumb enough to hope. To wish that maybe one day…

When your phone started again, you saw that it was Lawrence and you decided to go ahead and answer.

“You’d better answer the goddamn phone,” he grumbled before you could say anything.

“Yes?”

“There’s a lady you need to call,” he said without preamble, “at a paper in Boston. She needs some help and likes your work.”

Your heart sped up a little at that.

“What?”

“There’s a lady named Lilah Bennett,” Lawrence went on. “Here’s her number. Write it down.”

“Wait!” You scrambled for your pen and your Sudoku book. “Go ahead.”

You wrote down the number and the name with a shaking hand.

“You trying to get rid of me?” you tried to make it sound like a joke but missed it by a mile.

“No, but I hate that you’re sitting on the sidelines right now,” his tone was kind. “Give her a call. Might be nothing but it’s worth a shot.”

Tears stung the backs of your eyes. You were grateful. “Thank you, Lawrence. You don’t know how much… I appreciate you.”

“Don’t thank _me_ ,” he told you meaningfully. “Gotta go. Let me know what happens.”

_Don’t thank me._

Andy?

Your heart knew the truth you hadn’t confirmed yet. Andy was behind this. Your heart raced in something like hope as you contemplated calling the woman in Boston. You believed him when he said he didn’t mean for your life to be upended for his sake. Maybe he was trying to make things right. Maybe he was thinking ahead for when the trial was over. If what he told you was true about his feelings and you ended up together, you’d need to make a new start, right?

Or he was trying to fix things for you before your brief affair with him ended. Maybe he was working things out with Laurie…

Tears slid down your cheeks now, the chaos in your heart and mind never left you. Anxiety and hope were shoulder angels that fought every day on the battlefield of your heart while you waited for him to come to you. While you waited for the outcome of his son’s trial.

Your phone hummed again, and you found a new text message. When you read it, your heart squeezed in your chest. It was from Andy.

_I miss you._

***

Andy blinked back tears as he navigated the darkness at the top of the stairs. He paused outside his son’s room, thinking like Laurie that he wanted to hold his son, to tell him everything would be okay.

But the cold sliver of fear in his heart whispered that things might not be okay after all.

The day in court had seemed promising but ended in total disaster. The revelation from Jacob’s friend on the stand today? It was hard for Andy to see a way past that. They had a few plays left. But between that reveal and Neil’s games that revealed his family secret to the jury despite the judge not permitting it…

Andy couldn’t believe it. He refused to believe there was a chance, no matter how small, that his son had done this. He _couldn’t_ have.

Why hadn’t Jacob told them? He wasn’t deceiving them. Right?

_Yes, he could. You of all people should know that._

His wife’s words were a knife in his heart. Not only did she absolutely believe their son did this, she blamed _him_. Did she mean because he’d been an attorney and that he spun everything for cases? That everything he said was a lie?

Or did she mean he couldn’t help but lie because of where he’d come from? Who his father had been…

Since Andy had told her his family’s secret, that his father was a convicted rapist and murderer, Laurie hadn’t been the same. The emotional separation had been everything he’d feared, why he’d kept it secret all these years. Now when he talked, she heard him but didn’t listen. If he touched her, now limited to hugs or comforting gestures, he didn’t think Laurie felt a thing.

Their marriage had been crumbling even before Ben Rifkin’s body was found. Maybe Andy had been in denial about that too. But Laurie loved a man he no longer was. Maybe he never really had been. The successful assistant district attorney, respected community member and family man.

Laurie didn’t seem him as that now. She saw an imposter who looked like the husband she was proud of. Had she ever loved _him_? Did she even know who he was?

_What do you want me to say, Laurie? You’re right. Our marriage is a lie. Our whole fucking family is based on a fairy tale built on nothing. And our son’s a murderer. Is that what you want to hear?_

_No. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true._

The words broke him.

Andy had been swimming in guilt for weeks. He hadn’t lied to you when he told you that his marriage was over. It was. And he could have lived with that if their relationship had died of natural causes, the end hastened by the nightmare scenario that was their new reality.

Now he realized maybe Laurie never loved him at all. Maybe she just loved the idea of him, who she saw him as. Who she wanted him to be. Andy was no longer her perfect husband. 

Jacob was no longer her perfect son.

Maybe she really did believe it was all a false fairy tale.

Giving into his own tears, he listened as Jacob played video games in his room like he always had. He listened to Laurie sobbing downstairs before her light tread was on the stairs and she made her way into the bedroom they used to share.

Trying to bury himself in the cold bed of the guestroom, he realized he wanted to be anywhere _but_ here right now.

Andy wanted to be with _you_.

God, but he couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know who the fuck the guy in the Lincoln was and all Andy needed right now, when things had gone so wrong at the trial today, was for someone to spot him sneaking out, heading to your house. They’d shame him with it in the courtroom, shame Laurie in front of everyone and she was barely holding up now.

He could make things worse for you too and you didn’t deserve that. He could only hope your boss had done as he’d asked and called you about the job offer in Boston. Maybe you’d accept it if it came from him. You were so damned proud.

Andy missed seeing you there at the courthouse. He would have taken courage just from seeing your face as he passed you on his way in.

Pulling his phone off the charger on his bedside table, he checked to see if by any chanced you’d answered the text he probably shouldn’t have sent you earlier. He just wanted you to know he did miss you. That he cared very much.

Andy’s heart skipped a beat to see you’d answered him.

_Thank you for Boston._

_I miss you too._

Andy sat up on the bed and pocketed his phone. _Fuck this._ His mind was made up. It might be a stupid ass decision, but he’d take the risk. Could he _really_ make things worse than they were?

He knew he _could_ , but the possibility wasn’t enough to stop him from making his way out of the house, down to his car.

Andy parked near the sandlot behind the middle school, jumping the fence at the back of your house and letting himself in the back door. The kitchen smelled like pizza and your perfume. The lights were all out, it was after midnight. He had to be back home early for the trial, but he could hear the sound of your laptop playing in your bedroom.

Andy wasn’t trying to be silent. He wanted you to know that he was there. He found you sitting up on your bed in a simple t-shirt and panties, watching something on the laptop on your dresser. You still jerked in fear when you finally noticed him standing in the doorway.

“Andy?” you asked quietly. You scrubbed a hand through your hair, the sexy waves cascading over your head.

His relief at just seeing you, of being in quiet solace of your bedroom, almost made him crumble. He hung his jacket on the knob of your door and toed off his shoes before joining you on your bed, moving slowly in case he was no longer welcome there.

It just occurred to him that you likely knew his dark secret too now. Would you reject him for it? Now that he was no longer the hero you wrote those inspiring articles about?

And what must you think of him with everything revealed about Jacob?

Your eyes were soft on him as he reached you. When you lifted a hand to his face, smoothing it over his cheek and jaw, Andy gave in to his sorrow. He collapsed into the softness of your lap, wrapping his arms around you like a drowning man. Like you could shelter him.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Andy,” you whispered, your hands smoothing over his hair, his shoulders with a gentleness he didn’t deserve. “I’m sorry.”

There was so much he wanted to say. He just couldn’t. But you weren’t asking him questions. You weren’t making demands.

You just held him, opening yourself up like you could absorb any measure of his pain. In your arms, in that moment, he didn’t need to be the perfect family man, the ruthless district attorney. He didn’t need to be someone else’s strength, someone else’s defender.

Andy was broken. You were the only thing holding him together tonight.

You shifted in his hold after a few moments and he panicked, until he realized that you were just stretching out by his side, trying to get comfortable. Lying on your back, you motioned him to you. Andy wanted to be held by you, to listen to the strong beat of your heart.

But he _wanted_ you more.

Pulling himself up on an elbow, Andy’s gaze roamed over you. Just you. No makeup, no artifice in the dim light. You’d never looked more beautiful to him than you did right now beneath him.

When he leaned down to kiss your mouth, the softness of your lips, the taste of you infiltrated his senses. He kept it soft, seeking. Your gaze searched his when he pulled back, but there was nothing different in how you looked at him. There was no fear, no doubt.

You gazed at him like he was _still_ a hero. You gazed at him like he was still worth something.

When your slender hands slid around his neck, your fingers sinking gently into his hair, Andy was lost. His heart was racing in his chest and he moved over you, taking you into his arms and holding you against him.

Andy tasted your lips for long minutes, your kisses so sweet. He chained more kisses across your jaw to the slim column of your neck, using his lips and tongue to seek out all the places that made you shiver. He loved making you press your body up into his in growing want. You gasped and shifted below him, your fingers grabbing at the hem of his dress shirt and pulling it free before racing along the line of buttons and undoing each with haste.

He interrupted you only long enough to pull the t-shirt off you, dropping kisses on your breasts and teasing that creamy soft skin with his beard because he knew you liked that. Then he got his mouth on them, teased your nipples into diamond hard points with his tongue, and pulled at them with his lips at turns.

Andy lingered there as you came alive beneath him. Your fingers twisted in his hair, your thighs clenching in want as the scent of your desire drifted up on the heat of your body. His hands skimmed down your writhing form to smooth over those thighs, to dip into the wet heat they guarded.

When his fingers slid into the wetness coating the soft petals of your sex, he trailed wet kisses down to your tummy, more over the simple blue panties that were already soaked. They ripped away so easily in his hand and he tossed them away, more than eager to get his mouth on the most intimate part of you.

You didn’t disappoint him. You dazzled him as you mindlessly rode his mouth, your hands covering your breasts, your back arching gracefully when he did something you liked. The breathy sound of his name on your lips when he did something you _loved_ had his heart clenching in his chest.

There was so much Andy couldn’t give you right now. Tonight, he wanted to drown you in ecstasy. _That_ he could do.

His shoulders held you open for him as he teased your clit with his tongue. When he slid the first finger into your clenching channel, you started begging him. Mindless chants of _please_ mingled with your scent all around him, a feverish spell that took him away from everything else. 

With the second finger, he found that space inside you. He stroked it whisper soft, just enough to light the fuse of his little dynamite but not enough to set her off. Andy kept his touch light, loving the way your thighs struggled to close around him, loving the high cries of his name that filled your room.

“Andy, please…” The words ended in a sob.

Andy stroked that space again.

“You need to come, Sweetheart?” he whispered, loving the sight of you destroyed above him. Your eyes were fever bright, your skin was shiny and your chest rose and fell with each labored breath.

“Please,” you begged him. “Please, Andy…”

You howled when he stroked that spot with purpose, holding your hips down with his other hand so he could bury his mouth in your pussy. His lips and tongue were relentless as the orgasm blew you apart, dragging out the shockwaves as the taste of your release filled his mouth.

You were adorably dazed and fighting to breathe when he lifted himself, working at the belt of his jeans. The taste of you’d had gotten him so hard, his cock aching as he shucked off his jeans and boxers.

Andy insinuated himself between your trembling thighs, sliding into you so easily and groaning from how fucking wonderful all that wet warmth felt as your body spread around him, making room. Your thighs slowly rose to clamp around his hips when he began to move in you. You didn’t resist when his hands collared your wrists. He pressed them down on the bed on either side of your head as his thrusts gained speed.

The tight heat of you felt so good, the softness of you beneath him something he craved so often each day. Andy gave you a taste of yourself on his lips as he loved you, and your moan went straight to his cock. It had him fighting off his orgasm desperately.

He needed you to come first, he needed to feel you clench around him like he was all you’d ever need.

Andy’s movements sped up as he changed up his thrusts. It didn’t take him long to find the angle that had you coming apart under him. Your greedy channel grabbed him, pulsed around him. Your wrists struggling in his hold. His name was a prayer on your lips as a powerful release shook you, took your breath away.

Andy couldn’t fight you anymore, his heart hammering in his chest. His thrusts came fast and hard, the wet heat of your body destroying his control as he came hard, pumping himself into you like it was the last thing he’d ever do…

It embarrassed him that he must have dozed off. The gentle slide of your finger over his face pulled him from sleep. His face was nuzzled against your chest as you lay facing each other.

Andy pressed a kiss above your heart.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

Your sigh was soft. “Andy, you look like you haven’t slept in a year.”

“I’d like to sleep for a year honestly,” he whispered. “Right here. With you.”

Your fingers felt so good in his hair, gently gliding through the strands in a way that relaxed him.

“Thank you for Boston,” you whispered above him. “I’m driving up to meet with Lilah on Monday.”

Andy gazed up at you, noticing the gentle smile playing about your lips. “Why do you think it was me?”

“I _know_ it was you.”

And there it was. That awe, that admiration you’d always had for him. His heart ached in his chest at the sight of it.

“How can still look at me like that?” he had to ask. “With everything I’m sure you know now… How can you?”

You brushed a kiss on his forehead.

“Nothing changed about you, Andy,” you explained gently. “You’re going through one of the worst things anyone could go through right now. Your personal business, your family’s business, has been drug out for everyone to see and… I know it’s got to be hell for you.”

Andy couldn’t deny the truth of her words. 

“But _you_ didn’t change,” you explained warmly. “You’re still the same man, Andy… You’re still a _good_ man. A man with a strong heart.”

When you kissed him gently, his heart broke a little in his chest.

Reaching for his jeans in the hopes you wouldn’t see the tears gathering in his eyes, Andy fished his phone out of his pocket and set an alarm for himself so he could get back in time to be ready for the trial tomorrow.

He couldn’t help but feel that Laurie knew he was out for the night, but he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about that. Thinking of his estranged wife choked him with feelings of betrayal, resentment. After the fight they’d had earlier, that would only grow worse.

But here with you? Here he was happy. As happy as he could be anyway.

“I’ll probably be gone when you wake up,” he told you apologetically. “You don’t know how much I wish I could stay.”

You nodded, cuddling up to him when he stretched out next to you.

“Get some sleep,” you told him, snuggling into his chest.

Andy pressed a kiss into your hair. His heart whispering the words that he couldn’t say right now.

_I love you._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A spoiler alert for the show is now in effect. I’m merging the story with the one on the show to end it as I planned. This is not the last chapter but get ready for a tear-jerker. Thank you.
> 
> Also, I posted a prequel to this story from Andy's POV called Dream of You if you haven't already ready it. Thank you!

Your phone woke you up at just after eleven that morning. Your heart fluttered in hope. Maybe it was Andy. You hadn’t heard from him since the last night he’d snuck into your house.

It was Lawrence. You decided to answer at the last minute. He probably wanted to know how your interview with Lilah Bennett went the day before.

“Hey, you been watching your TV?” he asked sounding _way_ more excited than he normally did.

“Just woke up, actually,” you admitted. You _sounded_ like you just woke up.

“Then look at the fucking news online,” he grumbled. “Jacob Barber had all the charges dropped against him. Some pedophile admitted to the murder and hung himself.”

_It was over?_

“What?”

“Yeah,” Lawrence went on. “Now you can get your ass back here. I need you.”

Your brain was struggling to get up to speed.

“I just met with Lilah Bennett yesterday,” you told him.

“I’m sure you did,” Lawrence went on. “But you’d be starting over, and you don’t want that. You can start back on the Monday after Christmas.”

You appreciated that he wanted you back, but he’d also laid you off. You understood why, but still…

“Can I have until Sunday night to think about it?”

“Are you shitting me?” Lawrence was loud. “What did she promise you?”

“Not as much as what I have with you,” you admitted. “But I’d like to think about it if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, fuck, okay,” Lawrence said after a moment. “If I don’t hear from you by five Sunday evening, I will assume I’ll see you that Monday morning. Okay?”

“Okay,” you told him, ending the call.

The trial was over. Andy’s son was free. He didn’t commit the murder after all.

Your head swam with the implications as you got up to grab your laptop and brought it back to your bed. You pulled up the local news website. The first thing you saw?

Your heart dropped to see a picture of Andy with his arms wrapped around his wife and son. They looked so happy in that moment.

You knew they were. The last several months had been complete hell for all three of them. You were glad it was over. You couldn’t imagine having someone you love, your child, accused of such a thing. Andy had never really discussed the case with you except to say he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jacob was innocent.

Once again, he was right.

You were happy for him.

But what did it mean for _you_?

Tuesday went by with no word and Wednesday was even slower. By Thursday night, your insecurities preyed on your mind to the point where you were struggling. You didn’t sleep that night, even with all the bourbon you put down with your dinner. You’d ended up watching romantic comedies alone in your bed with the volume ridiculously low, hoping Andy would come to you.

_It’s over._ The words played over and over in your head until your vision blurred.

You were a safe place for him when he needed you. A place outside the chaos, beyond what he couldn’t control. You’d held him, held him together.

Now that their son was free and the nightmare was over for them, they could put their family back together. They _would_ put their family back together. Andy had told you his marriage was over but never why. And it would be for the best for them to heal their family, right? It would be the best thing for Jacob certainly.

The crack in your heart grew longer and wider with each hour that passed.

It was two in the morning on Friday when you just couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted to hear from Andy, _something_.

You sent a simple text.

_I’m happy for you._

What else could you say really?

There was no reply by Saturday morning.

You were distracted and tired when you jumped in your car and headed for the mall. Christmas was next week and you wanted to do a little shopping. You noticed the older blue sedan following you once you turned off your road but they weren’t tailgating you. You didn’t think anything of it.

_Then._

You managed to get what you came for pretty quickly. True, most people in Newton knew who you were and more people than you realized heard about you and Andy. All you saw was a sea of faces as you made your way around the shopping center. A blend of eyes both pitying and hostile.

If you’d felt guilty about your involvement with Andy before, you felt like the worst person in the world now. You couldn’t have gotten out of there fast enough. You’d even parked your car at the edge of the lot which worked out well for the man who had followed you.

You noticed the car, a big older Lincoln, had parked behind you. As you approached your door, a large bald man got out and made his way toward you, placing himself between you and your car.

“Sir?” you tried.

The man shook his head.

“I’m going to make this easy for you,” he said in a heavily accented voice. “Take the job in Boston. Move there.”

You stayed well back because his fists were clenched at his sides and the impartial calm that dominated his demeanor was honestly terrifying.

“Excuse me?” you asked, scared but also wanting to know how this man knew about your Boston job offer. _What the fuck business is it of yours?_

“Take the job in Boston,” he said slower like you were stupid. “Andy Barber has a family. A wife. A kid. He don’t need a side piece no more. You understand?”

Your heart began to pound at the menacing tone. It would have shattered completely at the confirmation of what you already suspected – that Andy was getting back with Laurie – if you hadn’t been afraid of what this man’s intentions were.

An even scarier thought crossed your mind. Did Andy send this man to scare you away?

_He wouldn’t._

_Would he?_

“You hear me?” the man inched closer. “He’s taking his family to Mexico for the holidays. You be gone when he gets back.”

With that, he turned and marched back to his Lincoln, climbing inside.

You were shaking so badly you could barely drive. And the bastard was following you.

All the way to your street he followed, slowing way down as you pulled into your driveway. You waited until he was gone, trembling and in tears before you managed to climb out of your car and make your way into your house with your bags.

You shut and locked the door, peering out your front window to see if he was still out there.

You screamed when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You just knew that awful man had materialized inside your house and he was there to kill you. He was going to _kill_ you.

Spinning in terror, your bags slipping from your hands as you prepared to fight, you found Andy standing there, looking at you like you’d lost your mind.

“Andy?” you asked in a tear-stained voice.

You flew into his arms before your mind could catch up and he caught you, holding you to him hard. You felt him press kisses into your hair, his hands smoothing over your shaking form.

“What happened?” he asked gently, tipping up your chin so he could see your face.

Andy with his dark hair, his piercing eyes, was beautiful. Just beautiful. And he wasn’t yours. He’d never been yours…

“It doesn’t matter,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a desperate kiss.

Just one more taste, one more time…

You half expected Andy to reject your advances. After only a couple of seconds, he took over the kiss, angling his head to take a deeper taste of you. Your back hit the wall reminding you of that first time in his office and excitement tried to push the pain out of your heart as you delighted in that dominance.

Andy peeled off your coat, yanked up your sweater. You fought to breathe as his kisses set you ablaze. He shrugged off his own coat before ripped off your bra, his fingers fumbling with your jeans. His lips were a hot brand on your breast, and you cried out as his hand slid into your panties, finding you wet and craving him. Always. _Always…_

Dropping to one knee he yanked down your jeans and your panties with them, and he wasn’t gentle. Your socks and shoes went easily and before you could bat an eye, he was pushing you up the wall, your arms and legs around him as he held you there. His mouth claimed yours roughly, possessively. You heard the sound of a zipper a beat before you felt his smooth, wide head at your entrance.

Andy whispered your name. “I can’t wait. I _need_ you…”

Joined as one, you both paused, gazing into each other’s eyes. God, it felt so _right_ to be there with him inside you. It felt fated.

_But he could never be yours._

You sank down on him, gasping as he stretched you open. Andy didn’t give you long to adjust. His thrusts were solid, building. Hot kisses rained over your face and neck and his fingers teased your clit as he powered into you. Your loud cries filled the house as he claimed you _hard_.

“I’ve missed you so… much,” he whispered in your ear just as you reached your first release.

You pretended he meant those words as waves of euphoria swamped you until all you could do was hang onto him.

“Need you…” Andy’s breath was coming fast, his cock finding that space in you that had you howling and tearing at his hair. “I think about you… so much…”

You pretended it was true, pretended he was _yours_.

“God, I’m going to _come_ …” Andy muttered as his thrusts came harder, faster. His fingers ensured you reached your release with him, his cries blending with yours in a chorus of desire that couldn’t survive. His hold on you tightened and hurt, he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “I love you” into your hair as he pumped himself into you, working himself through his release.

Tears stung the backs of your eyes. Whether that was really what he said or not, the truth bled out of the crack in your heart.

_You loved Andy._

It only made it worse how careful he was with you, placing you on your feet gently. He knew where you kept your robe, making his way down the hall to your bedroom and coming back with it. Andy helped you into the soft robe and then wrapped you in his arms, guiding you to curl up on his lap on the couch.

His fingers traced gentle trails over your face and hair, but you were struggling to meet his gaze. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt different. Very different. Was it just you?

_He don’t need no side piece no more._

“Want to tell me what had you so upset when you came in?” Andy asked carefully.

You sniffled, blinking back tears. There was only one way this was going to end.

You swallowed hard. “There was a man… he followed me to the mall.”

Andy froze.

“He was in a blue Lincoln. I… really didn’t think much about it when I got there… Just thought we were going the same way. But he was.., waiting on me when I came back out,” you whispered.

Andy made you look at him.

“What did he say?” he demanded.

Oh, he _knew_ who the man was.

The question had pain carving a hole in your chest but you had to ask it.

“Did you… send him to scare… me away?” Oh, how pitiful you sounded.

The pain you felt was reflected in his blue eyes. “No,” he told you, looking in the eye. “Never… _What_ did he say?”

You rambled through it as you dissolved into tears. “He told me… to take the job in Boston, Andy. How would he _know_ that? He said that you were taking your family… to Mexico for the h-holidays and I needed to be… gone by the time you got… back…”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath as he pulled you against him, your ear pressed to his heart. “I’m so sorry he did that to you. I’m so so sorry.”

You made yourself say the worst part of it. “He told me… you didn’t need a side piece… anymore.”

Andy cuddled you, comforted you. What you wouldn’t give to be able to stay there.

“You aren’t that for me,” he whispered. “You’ve never been that for me.”

Allowing yourself the bliss of his arms, you let him hold you for long moments. The deep cadence of his heart soothed you, pushed back the storm for a few stolen moments.

Pulling back from him, you swiped at your tears with your hands.

“What am I to you, Andy?” You _needed_ to know.

Andy’s expression was pure sincerity. “The woman I love.”

You shook your head, your heart threatening to crumble. You pulled yourself free of his grip, stepping away from where he sat on your couch. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you fought back more tears.

“Don’t _say_ that,” you begged him.

Andy looked concerned, leaning forward on his elbows. “I _mean_ that.”

You shook your head. “Jacob is innocent. He’s free.”

Andy nodded, something flashing in his eyes, but it was gone in an instant.

“You’re putting your life back together,” you told him. “You're putting your _family_ back together.”

The hurt in his expression made you feel guilty, but it had to be addressed.

“You’re going to Mexico?”

Andy nodded. “It’ll get Jacob and Laurie away from everything. While we’re there, I can talk with Laurie about how we’re going to move forward.”

“I’m h-happy for you,” you managed.

Andy looked ready to rise from the couch.

You waved him off. “Don’t.”

“Sweetheart,” Andy said carefully. “That man isn’t someone I know. He doesn’t speak for me… I’m so sorry he scared you like that. I’ll see if I can do anything about it… But I’m not trying to put my marriage back together. Laurie and I haven’t slept together since before you and I…”

“But you’d tell me that, right?” The damn tears weren’t stopping. “Isn’t this where it ends?”

This time he did rise from the couch and approached you. You stepped back.

“I don’t want it to,” Andy told you, willing you to believe him.

He might even believe it. _Right now._

“What am I supposed to do, Andy?” You couldn’t even see him clearly. Your words were sticking in your throat. “That man said I h-have to leave before you get back…”

“I’ll take care of it,” he assured you.

“You won’t be here!” you shouted. “And if he’s not with you, how are you going to control him? Huh?”

Andy blew out an exhale, looked defeated.

“I’ve got a job offer in Boston,” you went on. “People won’t know me. Won’t know I slept with another w-woman’s husband and judge me for it… I can start over. And that man w-won’t hurt me…”

The pain etched in his features made your heart clench in your chest.

“Maybe you’re going to Mexico to end your marriage,” you continued. “Maybe you’re to _fix_ your marriage. I don’t know… All I know is that I rarely get to see you and… I _can’t_ do this anymore.”

You started sobbing, your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor. He was hovering over you but scooted away.

“Andy, please… _leave_ ,” you wailed. “Please…”

His deep sigh was a flag of surrender that you swore you heard in your misery. You were aware that he moved to grab his coat from the floor. You felt him again above you, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“This _isn’t_ over,” Andy whispered. “I told you I want to be with _you_. I meant that… I love you and—”

You swatted at him, “No!”

“I mean that too,” Andy told you in a determined tone. “I’ll take care of that man. And if you go to Boston, I’ll follow you there… I _promise_ you that.”

Your heart pounded with every step he took to your front door. He was leaving you. _Leaving._

As your heart broke open in your chest, you wanted one last look. With bleary, tear-filled eyes, you gazed up to find Andy with his hand on the doorknob, his eyes on you.

“This _isn’t_ over,” Andy said with his voice breaking.

You didn’t know he stepped out on your front porch, the sound of your anguished sobs making him cry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A spoiler alert for the show and the book is now in effect. I’m taking elements from both as this story comes to a close.This is not the last chapter. Thank you.

Andy’s deepest fears preyed on his mind, his heart heavy as he drove back from visiting his father in prison.

His father had sent the mystery man in the blue Lincoln, Father O’Leary he called himself, to fix his life and that of his son. Everything about his father’s countenance had told Andy what he wouldn’t admit with words. His father sent the man to force Leonard Patz to confess to the murder of Ben Rifkin before he killed him, making it look like a suicide and freeing Jacob.

Father O’Leary also kept Dan Rifkin from doing more damage to their family in the parking garage after the trial. The tearful man came to confront Jacob, to tell him he knew he killed his son.

And the way Laurie had interacted with his father’s henchman, acting as if she were complicit in the entire nightmare. Andy knew she wasn’t, but her behavior took him off guard.

Once Father O’Leary had threatened _you_ , Andy was done. He knew he had to learn the truth. And only one person, his father, could give him that even if he couldn’t say it.

_You can be a good man. Or you could be a good father._

Jacob had been declared a free man by a court of law, declared innocent to Newton and the rest of the world. 

Nothing, however, would ever be the same.

Andy was asked to return to his job. His boss even offered to get rid of Neal Logiudice to make that happen. But Andy couldn’t return. Now that he’d seen the other side of that courtroom, he knew he couldn’t practice as he had before. He had no idea what he wanted to do, but he couldn’t go back to his old job.

They couldn’t stay in Newton.

Laurie had already officially resigned her position, more resentful of how she’d been treated than he had been. She was looking for other positions late at night on her laptop and that troubled him because if he wanted to see Jacob, without having to go through an ugly custody process on top of everything they’d been through, they’d need to stay in somewhat close proximity of each other. And he had no idea where she was looking.

Laurie was different. While Andy had expected her to be relieved about their son’s supposed innocence, he watched her. At odd moments with Jacob, she was lost in her thoughts instead of enjoying the fact that their son was free, exonerated.

Jacob continued to work with his tutor, seeming to pick up after the trial as if their entire lives hadn’t been upheaved. He’d slept for days after the trial ended. But he didn’t complain, seemed his usual self.

When Laurie suggested they keep their plans to go to Mexico for the holidays, both Andy and Jacob had been surprised. Jacob welcomed the opportunity to go somewhere else. Andy agreed because they needed to get away and he needed to talk to Laurie about moving forward with their lives. The look in his wife’s eyes told him she was expecting the conversation.

Andy hated the waiting. Even with the trial over, they were stuck in a holding pattern and it felt like when one of them finally made a move, their family would shatter like glass.

They couldn’t stay there. _He_ couldn’t stay there.

Jacob was eerily calm, and it ate at Andy every single day. It ate at Laurie, he could tell from the tense lines on her face. Would they ever know the truth? Would Ben’s murderer eventually be revealed? Had it been Leonard Patz?

Or had their son truly been guilty?

Laurie lost interest in the home she was once so proud of. Her friends didn’t come around for book clubs or wine anymore. She no longer had the perfect family, the admiration of her community. She went about her normal routine each day. But it was like she was sleepwalking, her body going through the motions but her mind somewhere else entirely. Even packing for the trip, buying what they needed for it online, held little joy for her. Laurie had always adored family vacations. It was hard for Andy to take.

Only a couple of days before they left, he finally found a way to slip out, to see you.

Andy’s life was in ruins. His marriage, his career. He didn’t know the truth about his son’s involvement in Ben Rifkin’s death, fighting back fears each night in the hours before dawn because he had trouble sleeping.

The one thing he had left that made his heart happy, that gave him hope? You.

Well, he was losing you too.

Your life had also been torn apart. Only your life wasn’t collateral damage from the situation his family had found itself in. No, _he’d_ done that to you. That was on _him_.

You’d been terrified when he’d found you in your living room and he hadn’t known why at the time. You’d flown into his arms, melted into him. You gave him everything he wanted. It made his heart quicken just to think about it. The taste of your lips had been bliss, being in your arms, being inside you was home.

His father’s henchman had found you that day, preyed upon your darkest fears. The bastard managed to convince you that Andy planned to fix his marriage on the trip to Mexico. He told you that you had never mattered at all.

And Andy wasn’t free to fix that situation right now. No, you’d asked him to go and he had, leaving you broken and crying on the floor. And the last thing he’d ever wanted was to hurt you.

To Andy, you were the future. When he’d told you that things weren’t over, he meant it. Just as he meant that he’d find you in Boston.

On his way back home, he drove down your street, by your house.

His heart dropped to see the U-Haul parked in the driveway next to your car, already half loaded with boxes.

***

Jacob started talking to the girl almost as soon as they finally reached their hotel in Cancun. A cute blonde girl, a little older than Jacob. Her name was Hope. Ironic, because the fact that his son made a friend so fast did give him _hope_ for his son’s future.

Andy should have paid closer attention.

They settled in the first night. Laurie slept in the larger bedroom, Jacob in the other. If his son had any concerns about Andy sleeping on the couch, he didn’t say anything. Apparently, he’d already exchanged numbers with Hope and was typing away on his phone all through the evening and into the night.

Andy waited until everyone was asleep, finishing up a glass of Scotch and trying to decide…

Finally, he hit send on the text. Two simple words.

AB: You’re moving.

Andy didn’t expect an answer. He hoped for one. His heart ached as he drained his glass and stretched out on the couch.

Then you _did_ answer.

_Yes._

_I’m taking the job in Boston._

Andy was grateful he’d been able to help get the job for you since it was his fault you’d been laid off from your previous one.

Tears stung the backs of his eyes. The situation had left you no choice. Even if you could have lived with the stigma of the affair, Andy had no doubt that Father O’Leary was still there, watching to make sure you left at his fucking father’s bidding.

And there was nothing he could do about it. The man was sharp enough not to break any laws. You could try to contact the police if you felt threatened. Andy knew your fear of the man wouldn’t allow you to do that.

AB: I’m so sorry.

He meant it. The one person who hadn’t abandoned him through everything, never lost faith in him. Look what he did to you.

“Want to talk about her now?”

Andy’s heart lurched to see Laurie take a seat on the couch by his feet, her expression the stony face she’d been wearing since he told her about his father.

Sitting up on the couch, Andy reached back to turn the lamp back on in the ritzy vacation living room. He didn’t want to do this lying in the dark like you were something he was ashamed of. No, he wanted to look Laurie in the eye, to have her understand everything in no uncertain terms.

“I would,” he told her soberly.

Her eyes widened when his gaze met hers. Did she expect him to be ashamed?

“You want a divorce?” she asked, summoning that false bravado he’d seen her wield a lot over the last several weeks.

It bothered Andy that there was a slight tremble to her thin hands, resting in her lap over the blue robe she wore. It bothered him the way her gaze dropped before he could even speak.

Andy had once loved her very much.

They’d dated for a while when they were younger and when he’d gotten Laurie pregnant, they’d ended up married. They were just starting out in life, but they’d made it work. They’d been through a lot together, had a son. The life they’d built together had been happy for a time.

But that life that came apart at the seams. Maybe even before Ben Rifkin.

“Yes, I do,” Andy said finally, answering her question about the divorce.

Laurie’s eyes slid closed and she curled in on herself like she was absorbing a blow. It made Andy feel like an even bigger pile of shit.

“H-how long,” Laurie managed in a thin voice, “have you been… seeing her?”

“Not long,” Andy admitted. “It didn’t start until after Jacob became the suspect in the Rifkin case.”

“A suspect in the Rifkin case?” Her eyes flew open. “He’s your _son_.”

Andy nodded, keeping calm. “Yes, he is.”

“Then stop talking like you’re a lawyer, Andy,” she snapped, “and he’s some client.” Her trembling grew and he watched her face, neck and chest darken in her anxiety. “So you’re just going to leave him? For _her_?”

“No, I very much plan to be part of Jacob’s life, Laurie,” Andy explained. “And this isn’t about her. It’s about _us._ ”

That got her attention.

“Excuse me?” she whispered.

Andy waited until her gaze met his. He needed her to understand.

“Laurie, I don’t want a divorce because I found someone else,” he said slowly. “That’s not what happened.”

His wife blew out an exhale, a little of her fire dying at his words. “Then what happened?”

Andy saw the answer in her eyes. Did she just need him to say it?

“Did you…” Taking a steadying breath, he just decided to say it. “Did you love me for _me_? Or because of what I… represented?”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“Laurie, we were well known in Newton,” Andy reminded her. “You had a very important role in working with children in need. I was assistant district attorney… We had a good life, a nice home. You had your friends, your charity work. And we both have Jacob, our son.”

Laurie nodded. “Yes, we had all of those things.”

_Had._

“Did you love me because of all of those things?” Andy needed to know. “Or did you love me for the man I am? Even with all my problems and faults?”

“What kind of question is that?” she asked him. “You were my husband. Of course, I loved you.”

_Loved_ you.

Andy leaned closer. He needed her to understand. “All of that, everything except for our son, is gone. Your career. My career. Neither of us can stay in Newton. Our lives there are over… Now that everything is gone except me and Jacob, tell me why you’ve closed yourself off from us most of the time.”

Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared slightly. It was the face she’d always made when she’d been caught. She couldn’t deny the difference in how she interacted with her son. It wasn’t the same. She was polite, but not loving and open. Almost impersonal.

And with _him_ …

“I know what you’re going to say, Andy,” Laurie said finally. “You’re going to say that things have been different between us since you finally told me the truth about your father.”

“I _could_. But honestly, it feels like things have been wrong between us for longer than that.”

Laurie looked at him like he’d slapped her. “Andy, are you just bitter with me for how I reacted when I learned the truth about your father? Are you still angry about that interviewer I talked to in the diner that night? When I told her, you didn’t really have friends… I wasn’t trying to hurt you or get back at you. Do you understand that?”

Andy shook his head. “You’re not understanding. I wasn’t happy you’d talked to that reporter because of the impact it could have on Jacob’s case.”

“You didn’t take it personally that I said you really didn’t have any friends?” Her brows shot up as she asked.

“Laurie, I loved you,” he admitted, using the past tense since she was. “I had you and I had Jacob. I was happy. You two were _all_ I needed.”

Blinking back tears, she took in what he said. “Andy, I’m sorry… it was hard for me to accept that you’d kept me in the dark about your father for so many years. Do you understand what that was like for me? You’d told me the entire time I’d known you that you never really knew your father.”

“That was the truth,” Andy interjected.

“You didn’t tell me that he’d raped and murdered a woman, Andy,” Laurie pressed on, tears in her voice. “You didn’t tell me he was in prison for life.”

“I was afraid to tell you,” he replied. “I was afraid you’d pull away from me and what I feared happened, didn’t it?”

She stared at him. “Andy, I took issue with the fact that you kept an important part of your past from me… I’m your wife. I needed to know that.”

“And I told you _when_ you needed to know,” he shot back. “If Ben Rifkin had never died and Jacob had never been implicated, why would you ever need to know that?”

“You’re saying you were protecting me?” Laurie shook her head. “You were protecting yourself.”

It was true.

“Do you blame me? You haven’t looked at me the same way since then, Laurie. Do you realize that?”

“You kept something important from me,” she argued. “You didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

“So that negated the rest of our marriage? Is that it? Or is it because I’m no longer your perfect husband?” Andy felt tears fill his own eyes, feeling the hurt he’d carried around for weeks. “If I had told you about my father early on, just to get it off my chest, would you have felt the same about me? Tell me the truth.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “Don’t question me like I’m on the witness stand, Andy.”

Once she’d been so proud of his legal career. It was the second time she brought it up in a negative way.

He chose to ignore it. “Would you still have loved me if I’d told you?”

Her chin quivered the tiniest bit, she seemed to be considering what to say.

Andy had his answer.

“I don’t know. I didn’t have that option. I didn’t find out until my son was accused of murder… I’m not sure I could ever trust you again after that,” she finally said. “That’s the point.”

“I know,” he said sadly. “But I’m still the same man.”

Laurie didn’t answer, confirming his fears.

Unbidden, he remembered walking into your bedroom that night. He remembered climbing onto your bed, into your lap. You’d held him as cried. You’d held him together.

_You’re still the same man, Andy…_ Your words ran through his mind. _You’re still a_ _good man. A man with a strong heart._

Your acceptance of him, your love, gave him the strength to finish this.

“And what about Jacob?” Andy asked quietly.

The pain in her eyes mirrored the pain he felt in his heart. The same fear and doubt. Jacob had been declared innocent. But would they ever know the truth? Had their child taken the life of another boy?

She seemed to zone out, to stare in the space in front of her. “I was so sure,” Laurie whispered. “So sure he had done it.”

Andy nodded, his heart and conscious doing battle. He could tell her what he knew. He could tell her about his last talk with his father and make her fears nightmares. He could let her suffer as he did.

_You could be a good man. Or you could be a good father._

Andy couldn’t do it. He couldn’t tell her about his father’s involvement or that Father O’Leary had killed Leonard Patz, setting up a fake confession. He still loved Laurie enough that he couldn’t do that to her.

“All I ask is that you still let me be part of Jacob’s life, Laurie,” Andy whispered.

He couldn’t breathe as he waited for her reaction. Finally, Laurie nodded, her gaze unmoving.

“I won’t take him away from you,” she muttered, almost like she was talking to herself. “When we get back, we’ll get started… on the divorce. And we’ll go from there.”

His heart was torn at her words. For so long, Laurie had been all he’d known. His wife.

“I don’t want Jacob to be around _her_ ,” Laurie said baldly but dropped it there.

Considering that she’d come out there to talk about _you_ , he was surprised that she’d let him redirect the conversation away from you so easily. She’d asked how long he’d been seeing you. She didn’t want Jacob around you. That was it. While he’d been ready to defend you, ready to deflect her angry words, there’d been none. It was almost worse than if she’d taken him to task over it. 

Maybe she just didn’t care. It broke his heart more than a little to realize that.

Andy watched as she got up and headed back to the bedroom. Laurie was calm. Almost too calm. She shut the door softly behind her.

Andy got up, refilled his glass with scotch from the room’s bar and sat down on his couch and cried. For long moments, he sipped at the scotch but didn’t taste it. The numbness it offered couldn’t quell the pain.

All the horrors of the last few weeks, the fears that still lingered, replayed in his head like a macabre midnight show. He sat there for a long time before he even tried to lie down. He knew he wouldn’t sleep.

The light on his phone flashed, catching his eye. In the dark, he checked his text to see that you’d sent another message over an hour ago.

_I know you’re sorry. But you didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do. I’m just as responsible for what happened._

Swiping at his tears, Andy’s heart clenched at your words. And then another message popped up and his heart swelled with hope.

_I don’t want this to be over either._

***

Christmas had been hollow and awkward. Jacob barely seemed to notice, all caught up with his new friend Hope.They’d been inseparable the entire time they’d been there. Laurie had just headed off for a yoga session at their resort, Jacob was getting ready to go to a New Year’s party with Hope.

“Remember what your mother said,” Andy told him. “Text when you get there and text when you’re getting ready to leave.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “I will, Dad.”

Andy sat watching TV for the moment, sipping at a glass of bourbon when he noticed Jacob lingering.

“What’s up?” Andy asked him.

“So you and Mom are getting divorced.” It wasn’t a question.

Andy nodded. He wasn’t surprised Jacob knew. “You want to talk about it?”

He would’ve expected to see sadness, panic on his son’s face. There were hints of both. After a moment, Jacob shrugged.

“Maybe when we get back,” his son told him, picking lint off his white shirt he wore with his swim trunks.

And with that, Jacob was off.

Laurie came back to the room and they went to one of the resort restaurants for dinner. Laurie was quiet and tense and Andy managed to add two drinks with dinner to his steady stream of alcohol. When they got back to their room it was just after nine.

Jacob was back, in his room watching television. _Why wasn’t he at the New Year’s party?_

They both walked just inside the door of his room. “Jacob? You’re back early,” Laurie said something first.

Jacob lounged on his bed, in a green shirt and khaki shorts. Their son was pouting. Something hadn’t gone well with his evening.

“Everything okay?” Andy asked him.

“Yeah.”

“Why are you back early?” Laurie pressed.

Jacob scowled at them. “I left early. Hope and I got into a fight. She wanted to stay… I came back.”

He and Laurie exchanged a look and they started to back out of the room.

“If you want to talk about it, we’re here okay,” Laurie said carefully.

“Yeah,” Jacob told you both, his gaze never leaving the TV.

It was apparent he wouldn’t say anything else, so they left him to it.

Andy went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, checked his phone. He heard Laurie in the bathroom. He couldn’t tell if the sound she’d made had been a gasp or a sob.

By the time he got there, the light was out, and the bathroom was empty. Flipping on the light, Andy looked around. Nothing looked out of place. Jacob had left his swim trunks on the bathroom floor. Their son left his clothes on the floor a lot at home.

Andy shook his head, picking them up to put them in the hamper.

The red stain he spotted on the front of the gray trunks looked a lot like blood. Andy froze as he looked at it. Hadn’t Jacob been wearing a white shirt when he left for the party? Where was the shirt?

Andy tossed and turned on the couch all night. It was almost as if he sensed the coming doom before it landed.

The next morning, Hope Connors was reported missing by her parents. The authorities came for Jacob within an hour of that announcement.

***

There’d been no time to find a house, so you’d leased an apartment just outside of Boston instead. You’d spent New Year’s Eve moving in and most of New Year’s Day in bed with sore muscles and bad period cramps. At least you were getting it out of the way now. You started your new job on Monday.

There’s been no sign of the scary man or his Lincoln. You knew, you kept an eye out now.

You’d last heard from Andy very early Tuesday. You’d told him you didn’t want things to be over and then wondered if you should have said it.

He’d answered after you fell asleep. His response left your fool heart with no regrets.

AB: I love you.

You didn’t know when he’d be back from Mexico. Hell, you honestly didn’t know if you’d see him again. What had you been thinking to fall in love with a man who wasn’t free? A man who’d just been through a horrible time?

But Andy’s nightmare wasn’t over.

You’d watched in horror on New Year’s Day as the news reported on a missing girl in Mexico. She’d spent most of holidays with Andy’s son Jacob and she’d last been seen with him at a party on the beach.

_Oh, my God._

Just like that, the family was cast back into the fire and you watched helplessly from the sidelines like everyone else. Jacob was detained in Mexico for weeks before the lack of evidence ultimately forced them to release him.

Though Andy was never far from your thoughts. Under the circumstances, he wasn’t free to contact you. Andy was already the son of a convicted rapist and murderer, the father of an alleged murderer. You wouldn’t add cheating on his wife to the list of sins the public had dragged out into the light of day. You were surprised it hadn’t already been dragged out there.

You had to accept the fact that maybe things with him were over. Maybe it was never meant to be.

You’d been working for Lilah Bennett for two months when she called you to her office. It was Wednesday and you’d been working on a story about a church embezzlement when she found you, asked to speak with you.

Once you were seated on opposite sides of her desk, the door to her office closed, she regarded you carefully.

“What I’m about to tell you is going to be all over the news within the next hour,” Lilah said slowly. “I’m not telling you this as your employer. I’m telling you as a friend.”

_Oh, shit. What happened?_

“It’s about the Barbers,” she explained.

Your heart started flying.

“You heard yesterday that the body of Hope Connors washed up on the beach in Mexico?” she asked.

You nodded. The girl’s remains had washed up and her windpipe had apparently been crushed. Your fear for Andy had been through the roof ever since.

“The Barbers have been back home for just over a week,” she explained. “This morning, Laurie Barber took their son for an interview. They were involved in a serious car crash.”

_Oh, God._

“It was raining heavily and apparently Mrs. Barber was driving too fast,” Lilah went on. “A lady not too far behind them on the road is saying it looked to her like the car was deliberately driven into a brick overpass in Newton.”

_What?_

“Jacob Barber died at the scene,” Lilah said calmly. “Laurie Barber is critical condition. They’re not expecting her to make it.”

Your breath left you in a rush.

“Are you okay?” Lilah asked you after a moment.

“Yes,” you told her. But you were a bad liar. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Lilah studied you for a long moment.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the week off?” Lilah said finally. “Get me the embezzlement article when you can but that’s it. Just come back on Monday.”

All you could do was stare at your boss in question. Her smile was genuine.

“He came to see me, you know,” Lilah told you. “We have a mutual friend. When he told me you needed a new job and who you were, I have to admit I was excited. You’re an excellent journalist.”

_Andy._ She meant Andy.

“Thank you,” you told her.

“It was also pretty obvious to me how he felt about you,” she went on. “It’s not my business. I’m not going to make it that. But if you feel the same way and I think you do, well… I’ll see you back on Monday.”

A tear had already slid from your eye and you were shaking as you rose to your feet. A muttered “thank you” was all you could come up with to say before you scrambled from her office.

You didn’t even remember the drive to your apartment or packing an overnight bag.

All you could think about was Andy. Regardless of where things stood between you and him, he had no one else. You knew that. You couldn’t let him be alone through this.

You hired an Uber to take you to Newton, not wanting to have your car seen if you could help it.

The entire way over, you saw the news reports flooding media channels on your phone. Already the press was saying that the car accident was no accident, that Laurie’s actions had been deliberate. They said that the Hope Connors’ death being ruled a homicide with Jacob as the top suspect had been too much for her.

Since it was nearly midnight, you had the Uber take you to his house first and thankfully, you didn’t see any press outside. His car was there so you got out and hoped for the best. When he didn’t answer your knock, you walked around to the garage, to the kitchen door. You found it unlocked.

It was strange walking into the Barbers’ house but you put your own feelings aside. You needed to find Andy. Maybe he wouldn’t want to see you. You had no idea. But you needed to make sure he was okay. Either way.

You made your way up the stairs, finding the first door on the left open. Andy sat in the dark on a smaller bed. A glance around the darkened room showed you enough to know that it was Jacob’s.

Andy sensed you there, turning to see you standing in the doorway. The misery etched on his face in the shadows broke your heart.

Dropping your bag, you walked into the room, stopping in front of him.

“You’re here,” Andy whispered in a broken voice.

“I’m here.”

Andy pulled you into his arms, sinking onto the floor with you. You held him as he cried.


	7. Chapter 7

You woke up on a Monday morning and it was raining. It was hard to drag yourself out of your bed. You got up, pulled on your robe, and headed for the kitchen. You put on coffee, made a quick breakfast, and ran down to get your paper. You wanted to see the article you did on the new principal at the high school a couple of blocks over.

As if any of that would keep you from thinking about him.

It was almost the end of May and you’d given him the time and space he’d needed. Andy had been through hell. Your heart ached because it had been so long since you’d seen him, but you understood. Andy had watched his family torn apart in the public eye during the trial. Then he’d lost it altogether.

Jacob had died in the car accident. Laurie succumbed to her injuries less than a week after the crash and you couldn’t begin to imagine what Andy was going through. The press hounded him on top of it. They were there for the funeral and when mother and son were buried side by side.

It had been raining that day too. You’d worn a cape with a hood and large sunglasses, trying to stay under your umbrella. No one from the press spotted you, and it was a big risk because you knew them all. You were pretty sure Andy spotted you though. You didn’t need him to acknowledge you. You just wanted him to know you were there.

While you hadn’t seen him since that weekend you’d spent there right after the accident, you texted, you talked by phone. Always late at night. You alone knew how much he struggled with the loss of his son, Laurie. Could he have saved them if he’d done anything differently? Would he ever know the truth about Ben Rifkin or Hope Connors? Andy shared his sorrows and fears with you in those early morning hours and you hoped you were able to help him just by listening, being there.

You knew it wasn’t the right time to continue what he’d had with you. The more time went on, you wondered if he ever would. And if he couldn’t, you understood. You did.

Sometimes you wondered if you should just move on. But how could you? All you could think about was _him_.

There were a couple of nice-looking guys at the paper where you worked now and they often invited you out with them and their friends, or just out for lunch. You’d been close _so_ many times to saying yes. You certainly could.

But why did your heart balk at the idea? Why did it feel like a betrayal?

The rainy start to your week threatened to give you the blues so you fished out a flirty spring dress you hadn’t worn in a while, did a nice updo and took care with your makeup. Dressing up lifted your mood, had you singing along with the radio on the drive to work. Yeah, you were splashing through puddles in the bright pink pumps you wore as you walked up the sidewalk, but you felt better. More like yourself.

Out of the corner of your eye, just as you reached the stairs at the front of the building, a black Audi caught your eye. Your head whipped around but it was already navigating up the street, managing the heavy Boston traffic.

And what were the odds it was him? A lot of people in Boston likely had an Audi just like that.

Shaking it off, you headed up to your office. There was a meeting at nine, Josh stopped by to see if you wanted to have lunch with him at ten, but you had to interview at eleven with the owner of an accounting firm where one of the owners had embezzled a shit ton of money so you told him you’d take a raincheck.

You made it back to the office during lunch hour and since the rain had stopped, you walked up the street to a small café that had a corned-beef Reuben you loved which you got with a cappuccino. Your phone was humming in your purse as you tried to carry everything through the door of the café and head back. Some sixth sense had you turning back just in time to see a tall man with dark hair walk in.

You stopped, checked yourself.

_Jesus. Are you imagining Andy now?_

Your heart felt heavy as you made your way back to your office. You hadn’t heard from Andy for a couple of days but that wasn’t unusual. Should you reach out to him instead of waiting for him to contact you? Did you even have a future with him?

_Should you just try to get laid?_

Cody stopped in your doorway at five, watching as you gathered your things.

“A few of us were going to head downtown for drinks. Want to go?”

The normal slate of excuses you used flashed in your mind. But instead, you looked up and smiled. A drink or two wouldn’t hurt anything. It wasn’t like he’d asked you on a date. You were friends. It was allowed.

“Sounds great,” you told him.

Cody wouldn’t have looked more shocked if you’d slapped him. “Really?”

You nodded. “Really.”

You rode with him to the upscale bar three blocks over, grinning at the way he insisted on running around the car to open the door for you. Cody was around your age with big brown eyes and a smile that no one could resist. He was adorable.

Josh didn’t talk to you at first. After a couple of rounds of drinks, he got over his jealousy that you arrived with Cody and competed for your attention. There was a third round of drinks and the seven of you from the paper including the two receptionists and a pair of female reporters who you didn’t realize were a couple until the outing, enjoyed drinking at one of the large round tables in the back.

You had a good time. It felt good to laugh. You ended up crammed in between both Cody and Josh, sitting across from the receptionists. It reminded you how nice it was to have someone’s attention. Someone available to be with you. Someone…

But neither of them was _him_.

After the fourth round, you all decided to call it a night. You had to work the next day and it was almost ten. Those heels were a challenge now because three drinks were normally your threshold and yeah…

Cody kept an arm around your shoulders to help you walk out to his car and you hung onto him.

“You okay? I could drive you home,” he offered. “Come get you in the morning.”

You just reached his car and you were really wondering how the hell you were going to drive from work back to your apartment building in the state you were in. Maybe you’d take him up on it?

The black Audi pulled up behind Cody’s Mustang and your heart raced at the sight of it. When Andy emerged from the driver’s side, his gaze intent on you, you were grateful for the alcohol. You were still buzzed enough that you felt the guilt of being out with someone else but not sharply.

Heading straight for you, Andy’s expression was stern, his blue eyes hard as he sized up Cody. And it was all the acknowledgment your fellow reporter would get. Andy wrapped a possessive arm around your waist and guided you to his Audi in a way that would brook no refusal.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Cody,” you called back nervously, noticing the tension in Andy’s body as you held onto him long enough to climb into his passenger seat and put on a seatbelt. His car was warm inside, dry. It smelled like him in there and you took a deep breath.

Andy quickly climbed in, not glancing your way as he threw on his seatbelt and drove out of the bar’s lot. You were so happy to see his profile in the low light of the cabin.

“You’ve been drinking,” he said finally, heading out of the city.

“Yes,” you admitted. “It was… the first time I’d been out in a while, you know?”

Andy nodded, his expression still serious.

“Who was the guy?”

The tone was one you recognized from the courtroom. He’d never directed it at _you_ before and it sent a wave of apprehension through you.

“Cody?”

“Cody Dresner,” Andy muttered your coworker’s name. “Usually covers sports.”

“That’s right.” Was Andy upset with you?

You were about to ask when you realized you didn’t recognize the road you were on. Andy knew it because he was taking the drive pretty swiftly for a ritzy neighborhood. After taking a couple of turns, he slowed down on a shorter street that ended in a cul-de-sac, pulling into the drive of an elegant home from what you could make out in the streetlights. It looked like a small brick mansion honestly.

“Where are we?” you asked timidly.

Andy didn’t answer. He shut off the engine, threw off his seatbelt, and determinedly climbed out of the car. You struggled to unbuckle your seatbelt when he opened your door, unbuckled you, and essentially scooped you out. You were still wobbly on your feet but with his help, you made it along the neat stone path, up the steps to the front door. Andy had the door unlocked in a beat, ushering you inside.

“What… “ You realized that you’d been drinking but you didn’t know what was going on. “Andy, what are we doing here?”

The inside of the home was gorgeous, dimly lit by elegant lamps. Dark wood, stone, and pewter accents gave the interior an upscale vibe. You stood next to a gorgeous wooden staircase. No sooner had you noticed it, Andy scooped you up in his arms and started carrying you up those stairs.

Your arms wound around his neck, your eyes closing as you took in the rich notes of the scent he wore. You’d missed him so much. You didn’t know how he knew where to find you or where he’d brought you, but you were still riding high on his favorite brand of bourbon and enjoying just being close to him after so many lonely weeks.

Gently he set you down and you weren’t really surprised to find yourself in a bedroom, sitting on the edge of a huge four-poster bed. The walls were deep green and the rest of the room was white and heather gray. A huge widescreen TV was mounted on the wall in front of you. It was the only thing that seemed modern aside from the laptop charging on top of the dark wood dresser.

Andy walked into your line of vision, his expression softening as his gaze roamed over you. With his hands on his hips, his gaze dropped to the floor and you knew he was contemplating what he was going to say. He used to do the same thing in court.

“Who is Cody Dresner to you?” he asked finally. “I’m guessing if there was an established relationship, he would have put up more of a fight when I drove off with you.”

You stared up at him, not knowing whether to be offended he thought you were seeing other people or to be worried you’d hurt him by being out with your friends and he got the wrong idea.

“Honestly?”

Andy nodded, his gaze locked with yours.

“Today was the first time I’d gone out with anyone from work,” you said slowly. “Cody said they were going downtown for drinks and there were – “ Fuck, how many of you were there? “ – six or seven of us there. Yeah, I drank. A lot. But I had a nice time… It was fun.”

“And Cody was going to drive you home?”

“Am I being cross-examined?” you tried for flirty but were too nervous and buzzed to hit that note.

Andy shook his head, taking a knee in front of you but still imposing in his silver sweater. “That would mean I’m questioning you to extend your testimony after you’d already been questioned by another attorney.”

“I don’t like any other attorneys,” you grumbled.

Andy smiled at that.

Wrapping a hand around your ankle, he carefully pulled off one of your pumps. His fingers lingered just a moment before he reached for the other ankle, removed the other pump.

Andy blew out an exhale. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Well, he certainly _had_ surprised you. “I thought I saw you today,” you whispered. “A couple of times.”

Andy’s gaze met yours, his smile like the end of a year of rain. Casually, he reached up and began plucking the pins from your hair, freeing it to fall around your shoulders.

“I waited for you in the parking lot when you were supposed to be getting out from work,” he explained. “After an hour or so, I realized that you were either working over or you’d gone somewhere else. Lilah was still in her office.”

You nodded at the mention of your boss.

“She’d heard a group of you were going out for drinks and had a few ideas of where you may have gone,” he went on. “I didn’t think I’d find you. I thought about waiting at your apartment, but I lucked out.”

You blew out an exhale, enjoying the way his large hands smoothed over your knees and pulled them apart. “It figures the one time I’d actually go out with coworkers that you’d come looking for me. I’m sorry.”

A gentle hand tipped your chin up until your gaze met him. “ _I’m_ sorry,” Andy said gently. “I was a little jealous… I know I really don’t have a right to be but…”

Andy moved closer, the heat of him feeling so good as he fit himself between your thighs to pull you closer. One hand smoothed over your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Andy? You never told me what we’re doing here or… where we are,” you said slowly as he brushed another kiss over your lips. Your heart was picking up speed and your hands slid around him, sliding on the silky surface of the sweater he wore. “You wanted to surprise me?”

“I was going to see if you wanted to talk over dinner.” More kisses pressed into your hair, over your face. “But I’m not doing a lot better than I was that night you were still in the parking lot outside my office.”

You gasped at the feel of his soft lips, the brush of his beard at the hollow below your ear, one of your weak spots. Your hands clutched at his sweater. His hands worked the zipper at the back of your dress.

“You’re saying it was wrong that you threw me across your desk that first night?” It was hard to think much less speak with Andy blazing a trail down the slim column of your neck with his mouth as his hand carefully pulled down the top of your dress.

Andy’s chuckle was a deep sound muffled against your skin as he kissed his way down over your chest, to the tops of your breasts revealed by one of your nicer, lacy bras. No sooner than you thought that you were grateful to have worn nice underthings than his fingers unclasped your bra and pulled it away to reveal your breasts to him.

“I have no regrets when it comes to you,” he whispered around your nipple.

Your body went up in flames and your fingers slid up into the thick locks of his hair as he teased your breasts with his hands and mouth. His movements were almost reverent as he caressed you, nuzzled at your breasts gently, and teased them with careful fingers.

He had you writhing against him in minutes, your thighs tight around his waist, your hands yanking up his sweater frantically. Andy stopped long enough to pull it off for you.

Then he was kissing you breathless, pushing you back on the bed. He managed to pull your dress down your body before raining hot kisses over your breasts, your tummy. The alcohol still humming through your veins made you a little less self-conscious about the filmy pink panties you wore that couldn’t possibly hide how wet he’d made you.

Andy’s gaze darkened as it roamed over those panties, the lace tops of your white stockings.

“I love you in these summer dresses,” Andy whispered, pressing a slow kiss over the top of your covered mound. “You always looked so beautiful standing there on the courthouse stairs… Always drove me crazy.”

Hooking his fingers in the band of your panties, he carefully pulled them down your body and off.

“You always asked me the toughest questions,” he explained, pressing kisses over your knee, up one thigh. “It wasn’t fair.”

You let him hook that knee over his shoulder. “I was just doing my job,” you whispered.

“You did it well.” Another kiss where the lace of your stocking met flesh. “It was just fucking hard to think with you smiling at me like that, standing so close…”

Andy jerked in surprise when you pulled out of his grip, moving towards the center of the large bed. Confusion entered his blue-eyed gaze for just a second before he climbed up on the edge of the bed, making his way towards you.

He didn’t make it far when you stopped him, pressing your toes into his chest.

“Take off the rest,” you told him with a grin.

His brows went up, but he nodded. He stepped off the bed long enough to toe off his shoes, to take down his jeans and the black boxers beneath. Pulling off his socks, Andy came back onto the bed, coming for you.

Meeting him halfway, you kissed him soundly, wrapping an arm around his neck as you took a moment to enjoy the taste of him, the feel of his warm skin under your hands.

You took Andy off guard when you pushed him back, pressing him onto his back beneath you. But he allowed it. His eyes slid closed when you chained kisses down his neck, over his chest. You’d just gotten your hands on the heated length of him when Andy sat up.

“I like where this is going,” he told you, his breath coming fast. “But I have a better idea.”

The alcohol you were still riding high on was a friend to Andy as he grabbed your hips, pulling your lower body towards him until your knees were on either side of his head. Your heated center was poised over his face. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to his mouth.

Your fingers dug into the bedding as he tasted you, exploring your folds with his mouth. _Oh God, he’s so good at that._ You gasped and writhed in his hold for a moment before you took in your position. Your chest pressed to Andy’s abdomen, his hard length in front of you within easy reach.

_Okay then._

Using your left arm to hold you up, you got your right hand on him. Got your mouth on him. Andy was a tormenting devil between your thighs, doing everything he could to keep you from focusing. But you were determined to give as good as you got.

You teased him in all the ways you knew he liked. You worked him with smooth, firm strokes of your hand as you teased the head of him with your lips and tongue. It was the best kind of challenge because you were gasping around him as you worked him into your mouth. The way his tongue twisted around your clit made you fight his hold. You moaned around him, hollowing out your cheeks as you worked him towards the back of your throat.

You made Andy fight to focus as you worked the length of him back until you gagged. It was satisfying to you the way his hips rose from the bed, the way his thighs tensed from your efforts. When your hand slid down to caress his sac, your world upended.

Your breath huffed out when your back hit the bed.

“Still dynamite, aren’t you?” His voice was a harsh whisper.

Andy looked wild above you, his gaze heated as he dropped over you and pushed you into the mattress. His lips on yours were demanding, your juices smeared on his mouth and beard. His hands were claiming as they skimmed over your body. It had been so long since you’d held him this way, taken him inside you.

Andy wasted no time sinking into you, and it took your breath away. It had been months and all you could do was hang on as his cock stretched you, the burn welcome as you wrapped yourself around him. His body was warm strength that chased away months of loneliness. His eyes were gentle as his gaze roamed over you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

When he reached the end of you, he paused. His kisses became slow, sweet. His forehead pressed to yours, his heart beating next to yours.

“I’m finally home,” Andy whispered against your lips.

Reverent tears stung the backs of your eyes as you blinked up at him, considered the significance of his words. In that moment, your heart swelled as you gazed into his eyes, reading hope there.

Was this really happening? _Could Andy be yours now?_

“I didn’t know if… I’d see you again,” you managed through that veil of emotion, your voice choked with tears.

“I told you I’d find you.” Andy began to move in you. You couldn’t remember a time when Andy had been so careful with you. His forearms pressed in at your shoulders, his weight pressing you into the softness of the mattress. His thrusts were slow, filling you up… “I told you I’d follow you here to Boston.”

“I’d follow you anywhere,” he whispered against your ear.

You let hope into your heart as surely as you’d let him into your body. Your hands slid over his shoulders, his back. His heart pounded against yours. His lips skimmed over your face and neck. Andy was all you could see, all you could feel. When his lips made their way back to yours, his kisses became demanding, possessive.

“Didn’t like seeing you with him,” Andy’s voice was rough, his thrusts gaining speed. “Didn’t like seeing his hands on you.”

“Just a friend,” you told him, gasping as he began changing angles within you. “I waited. I waited… for you.”

His hard thighs pushed yours wider and he pushed further into you, his movements ruthless as he fed the craving you’d both harbored for too many long, lonely weeks. Andy took you like you belonged to him. _Only him_. He loved you like he never planned on stopping.

“You’re mine,” Andy whispered in your ear, a large hand sliding down your body, finding the tender place where his body joined yours. His fingers slid on the wetness over your clit, teasing it delicately and sending waves of pleasure running through you, stronger than the whiskey you drank. “You’ve always been mine…”

Oh, how much you wanted that to be true. To be his? _To have him be yours?_

One thrust had you crying out as his cock found that sacred space within you. His fingers worked you faster, his kisses took your breath away. Release hit you like a blast wave, had you crying out his name in the quiet of the room. Andy didn’t relent, kept at you with his hips driving powerfully into you.

Pleasure blended with what was left of the alcohol in your system, had you feeling complete euphoria as Andy rolled onto his back. You straddled him now with him still buried inside you, the room shifting around you in ways it normally wouldn’t.

Andy couldn’t wait for you to recover. With a hard grip on your hips, he began to thrust roughly up into you while pulling you down. Just like that, you were back there with him. The determination and lust were a wicked blend in his blue eyes as he pushed you back into craving, that heated place where only he could offer you relief.

It didn’t take long for you to help him, to ride him. You found an angle where your clit was hitting just right each time you sank down onto his cock and you went for it. Andy threw his head back as you rode him hard, wanting to bring him off but knowing you were going to beat him to it.

When you angled him just right inside you, you couldn’t stop. Your hands slid on the damp wall of his chest as you fucked him hard, bringing yourself off again with a low cry and working yourself until you couldn’t anymore until release had you on the edge of oblivion.

The minute you collapsed, Andy rolled you under him, pounding you into the mattress. His hold on you was just shy of painful when he came, shouting into the room as he worked himself into your body until he was spent. Your name was almost a sob as the tension finally eased from his body.

Andy rolled onto his back again, pulling you with him. You got comfortable with your head on his chest and the rest of you wrapped around him while he pulled the covers over you both. Your breathing slowed, your heart ached in your chest.

You’d wanted to see Andy more than anything. But what happened now? For all the late-night conversations, texts, you’d talked very little about any future between the two of you. The alcohol in your system had faded enough for you to think now, to revisit the same old worries.

His fingers traced lines along your upper arm, his chest rising and falling under your cheek.

“You’re quiet,” Andy finally said. “What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

You’d ask again. “Where are we, Andy? Where have brought me?”

Andy hummed. “I just bought this house. It took a while to find something close by, but I eventually lucked out… It’s only about five miles from your building.”

_He’d wanted to be close to you?_

You gazed up at him. “That’s why you’ve been packing things up the last two weeks?”

The sincerity in his gorgeous blue eyes made you pause. He nodded. “I’m just sorry it took me so long.”

You rose on one elbow, taking in the tears gathering in his eyes. “Andy, after everything you’ve been through, you don’t owe _me_ an apology or an explanation… I’m happy you have a new home. You couldn’t stay there.”

A single tear slid from his eye as he gazed up at you.

“I want this to be _our_ new home,” Andy said slowly, his gaze searching yours. “When I told you that you were the woman I loved, I _meant_ that. I love you.”

Your heart raced as you considered his words.

“You broke my heart that day in your living room,” he went on brokenly. “When you told me you wanted me to leave… You didn’t want me to say that. That I loved you.”

You hadn’t. A strange threatening man had told you to get away from Andy and his family in so many words. Andy was going to Mexico with his wife and son who had recently been exonerated in the Ben Rifkin case. You’d been afraid then. Afraid you’d fallen in love with a man you could never have.

“I was scared, Andy,” you admitted. “I was afraid because… You were right about me. You were always right.”

The intensity of his gaze on you made you pause.

“I wasn’t supposed to want another woman’s husband,” you explained. “But I did. I could have left that first night at your office. I could have said no any of those nights you came to me. But I didn’t. I didn’t _want_ to. I wanted _you_.”

“But the fear grew,” you went on. “All we had were stolen moments, and hope for the future that I just couldn’t see happening. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe _you_. I didn’t feel like I deserved you…”

Your voice broke, had Andy sitting up, pulling you into his arms. Your head was pressed to his chest, his heart a steadying cadence in your ear. It gave you the courage to finish what you had to say.

“When that man showed up? It felt like all my sins were embodied in him,” you said, blinking back tears. “He said everything my head whispered to me when I was with you. Leave Andy alone. Let him go back to his family… _He’s not yours_.”

“What did your heart say?” he asked.

You swiped at your tears, shaking your head. Could you say it?

“Shhh,” Andy soothed you. “That’s all over now… I _am_ yours. If you’ll have me.”

Blinking up at him, you saw nothing but sincerity in his gaze. The love he felt for you shining through.

“If they had… survived,” Andy whispered, “I’d still be here now. I’d still come for you, just like I promised. I never want you to doubt that.”

For long moments, you just held each other. Now you _could_ hold him with no court cases or broken promises. Slowly, you began to relax. The seed of hope began to take root.

Eventually, Andy pulled you back into the bed with him, just holding you.

“I’ll give you a tour in the morning,” he offered. “Of the house. I think you’ll like it. You can make any changes you want to.”

You hummed. “It will have to be quick before I go to work.”

“Call in,” he told you.

“What?”

“Call in.” He was more determined the second time. “Spend the day with me.”

You shook your head, laughing. “Oh, no you don’t. You already cost me one job, mister.”

“Just one day,” he pressed on. “All I’m asking for.”

It had you thinking. “What are you doing these days? What do you want to do?”

Andy regarded you thoughtfully. “I can’t go back to criminal law. Not with everything that’s happened.”

You completely understood.

“I was thinking I might… like to teach.”

You smiled. “You’ll be a great teacher.”

Rising over you, Andy claimed your lips in the softest kiss.

“I can be anything now,” he whispered against your lips. “With you… Stay with me.”

The next kiss left you both breathless, had you feeling less sleepy.

“I’ll stay with you,” you promised. “I love you, Andy.”

You kissed him then, pouring everything you felt for him into your kiss and enjoying the way his heart pounded next to yours. You claimed each other in the darkness, in your new home. It was the first night of your lives together.

**The End**


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